What's In A Name
by theglamourfades
Summary: A look into John and Anna's life as the next stage of it begins, and they welcome some new arrivals. Future Bates Family fluffiness. A follow-up to If You Can't Sleep, but also reads as a stand-alone story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I started on this story just before I wrote Home Sweet Home, and it's been on my mind for a long time. After the lovely events of 3.7 and 3.8, I know a lot of A/B fans are anxious for Baby Bates to make an appearance, and I include myself in that hope, even if the logical side of me thinks it shouldn't happen right away, lest we don't get to see much of Anna at Downton any more. Though I'm sure there could be some way that it could work out, especially if Lady Mary fell pregnant too...but that's for Fellowes to decide. All I know is that Baby Bates definitely needs to be a thing that happens at some stage, and I couldn't imagine a more adorable baby than that of Anna and John's. **

**So, as we're all suffering Downton withdrawal until the Christmas Special, I thought I might as well post this now, while it's still relatively fresh from being written, and to ease the symptoms a little (Sunday nights are just not the same *sob*). And just maybe we might get some happy news on the A/B baby front in the CS...? This is intended to be a follow-on story from If You Can't Sleep, though it does read as a stand-alone piece by itself too. **

**Also, my apologies to poma14 for using a title that is incredibly similar to one of her stories (apart from some capitalisation/a lack of a question mark) - no matter how hard I racked my brain I could just not come up with another title. And hopefully the reason for using it will become clear towards the end of the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey. If I did, all Anna and John would be doing would be practising for Baby Bates.**

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John Bates had spent most of his life deep in thought. There were very few moments that would pass in each day that would not find his mind turning incessantly, thinking about one thing, then something else, then another thing entirely. The thoughts collecting and consuming, until the whole world and all of its worries were suddenly upon him, adding unnecessarily to his own. It had always been the same; it was just the way he was. Even when he was small, he could remember sitting staring out of the window in his childhood home at a permanently greyed sky, a pensive expression clouding his features. His mother would look on, shake her head lovingly at her boy. She'd say that he was doing other people's share for them. She worried that he spent too much time there, in his head, but there wasn't much she could do about matters. At least it would make him wise, she reasoned; wiser than he already was at such a young age. If she were still alive, he would have told her it had been quite otherwise. He had spent too much of his time thinking and, predominately, it had made him much more foolish, and had caused so many precious moments to slip away from him, unseen, unappreciated.

Time had fallen further away, and while he was still aware of it slipping, for once he did not care too much. The world was within this one moment, standing still. He had only two thoughts as he stood in front of the window that near enough stretched down to his feet, in the room situated at one of the highest points in the house. The first was of the scene outside that filled his eyes and his mind; the absolute wonder of Downton Abbey at the closing of the day. He supposed he never had time enough to ever stop and look in depth at it until now, yet he was still rather amazed by all of the little details he had never noticed before. One by one, another new aspect kept entering his vision. He was rather worried about how much he'd missed whilst being here, albeit intermittently, for over a decade. It was as if he was seeing it for the first time, and he breathed steadily to allow himself to take it all in. The second was of another wonder, this one most definitely new but leaving him even more astounded. If he hadn't been holding it tight within his arms, hadn't felt the softness and warmth and life pressing firm against his fingers, he would have disbelieved the miracle that was before him. Even as it was, he was finding that he hadn't completely fathomed the situation. Within the depths, he could feel a thousand thoughts impatiently waiting, ready to race and bring him right into the thick of reality. Yet he was content to keep them suspended, to discover not by constant contemplation but by seeing and feeling: each little crease upon her face and wriggle of her limbs, every little breath that came from her as she lay there so snug. From this moment on, not another second would pass him by and no other distant thought would be anything, not now he had everything right in front of him.

Their daughter was born not long after sunrise, after a labour that had begun in the darkest hour of night and lasted over a day. He had been on the edge of sleep when he had felt Anna's hand upon his shoulder, shaking him gently. As soon as he turned over to see her, sitting up in the bed, he had known exactly what the matter was. Alert once more, all of his senses activated more acutely than they had ever done before. At once he had jumped up, begun to change hastily from his nightclothes, started to collect Anna's clothes and things he thought she might need, along with objects she definitely didn't, rushing around the cottage full of aimless purpose and blind panic. Having done everything and nothing, he hurried back to the bedside to grasp his wife's hand. It was the first and only action he should have taken. She had merely smiled, stroking her fingers reassuringly against his as he helped her rise from the bed, walked her carefully down the stairs and out of the door, across the way to Downton in the pitch black, never letting go of her for a second. His heart had pounded hard and relentless against his ears and chest with every slow step that they took together, anxiety for her filling him head to toe. When they had finally entered the house, he knew he was showing his worry plain upon his face for all to see, yet he could do nothing to disguise it. Mrs Hughes noticed it immediately and returned with a look of utmost empathy for his sorry state, as she took Anna's other hand and placed a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"It's happening, then," the housekeeper issued, John failing to be soothed by her hushed Scottish brogue.

Anna nodded calmly. She was the complete contrast of him at that moment; the picture of tranquillity, wincing only ever so slightly when she believed his gaze to have been averted, the merest appearance of the deep discomfort she must already been experiencing. He couldn't take his eyes from her, and held her hand even tighter as Mrs Hughes left them to inform the family. She returned not long after, accompanied by Lady Grantham, who smiled widely at them both.

"Excuse us for awaking you, m'lady," John rushed forth.

"Not at all," Lady Cora exclaimed, "We wouldn't be able to sleep when such a wonderful thing is happening, and right here in the house too."

She walked towards where Anna sat at the table and put a soft hand upon her.

"Some of the maids are arranging a room as we speak, and I've telephoned Dr Clarkson to come at once."

Lady Cora was smiling warmly at Anna, and John gave out a small, thankful smile of his own in response.

"Thank you, m'lady. We're very grateful."

"There's no need to say so, Bates. It's the least we can do."She turned towards him, picked up on his anxious expression, and nodded in recognition. "But thank you all the same. Just know that there's no need to worry; everything will be taken the utmost care of."

Soon enough, Dr Clarkson had arrived, and Anna was led upstairs, with Mrs Hughes and Lady Grantham on either side of her. Before she disappeared down the hallway, she had turned to look at him over her shoulder, giving him the most serene smile, and all at once he felt relieved with comfort and absolutely helpless. Despite all of the assurances he had received repeatedly from various members of the household, John could not stop from fretting. There was no chance of him even entertaining the idea of sleep; he could barely sit long enough to gain any rest, not while Anna was doing anything but, enduring so much. Instead he stood pacing the length of the hall, going back and forth so many times that he could have very well worn several holes in the floor. Mr Carson, who had arisen to keep him company as well as out of concern for Anna, had pleaded with him to cease his wandering, saying that it was making him feel most unsettled. Though he was sorely tempted, John refrained from making any comment.

Before long, Mrs Patmore and Daisy had joined them downstairs, Mrs Patmore offering to make a large pot of tea that was just the thing to calm their nerves. There would be several made over the course of the night, and John had to fight the urge to search in the pantry for something stronger. As dawn came, the cries of pain sounded louder through the ceiling. Daisy's eyes widened in fear and John's shut themselves tight. He couldn't bear to hear Anna in such agony; all because of him, again. He wanted to rush upstairs to be right at her side, to take her hand tight in his again, wipe her brow and do his very best to make it all go away. He wanted nothing more than to be in the room with her, for it to be just them battling on like always, but he was too petrified to even consider how she might have reacted if he had been there. His knowledge of women in labour was almost non-existent, bar recounted tales he had been regaled with over the years from other men, but it wouldn't be surprising for the experience to have quite the adverse effect on a person's temperament. It was hard, but not impossible, to imagine Anna being quite different from her usual sweet-natured self, shouting and screaming at him full of rage, pushing his hand out of hers and commanding him to go and leave her be. In a way, it would only be something that had been a long time coming, yet it pained him to think of her doing such things, even when she was entitled to act in whichever way she wished if it would only ease her.

The day unfolded, Anna still working harder than she ever had and though he had thought it might prove a useful distraction, John found he was able to get absolutely nothing done. Lord Grantham had insisted that he need not perform any of his duties, aside from the most basic things.

"Bates, your wife is in the process of giving birth. Of course you won't be able to concentrate."

He found himself sitting with Lord Grantham in his study, somewhat uncomfortably, trying to play a game of cards but failing miserably, eyes trained instead on the slow ticking of the clock. More than once, he was told not to worry, but that was easier said than done. Especially for someone who thought as much as he did.

He'd done even more of it in the past months, so much that he'd felt that his mind could have exploded at any minute. John had been frantic throughout the entirety of Anna's pregnancy, plagued with worry and the most horrific of any thoughts that had ever occurred to him from the moment she had told him the news. Knowing that she had been apprehensive about how he would respond, he had done his best to conceal all of his uncertainties from her sight. There was no question whatsoever that he was absolutely overjoyed. The woman he loved with all of his heart and soul, and so much more besides, was carrying his child; it was exactly what he had dreamed of for so long, the actuality made even sweeter by the fact that they had both feared for some time that they would not get the chance to make it come true. Each night when they returned to their cottage, he would rest his hands gently against her stomach before slipping them down to her waist, holding her firm, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her, soft at first, then deeper, offering reassurance that spoke louder than his words, though he would give her them too. Letting her go reluctantly, he'd lead her to lay down upon the settee while he went to make her some tea accompanied with a plate of the sticky toffee pudding Mrs Patmore had prepared especially for her, knowing that she was having a particular craving for it. His heart swelled to see her curled up comfortable and so very content, yet the dull ache of fear kept on gnawing away.

Most nights Anna had trouble sleeping, and as he felt her toss and turn next to him in their bed, he lay on his side, also wide awake in silent terror. He was terrified about everything. About Anna; why it was that she was unable to sleep, the sickness she was having daily and the pain she was yet to bear. About the baby; hoping and praying that it was developing healthily and that it would be well and safe. About himself and the father he would turn out to be. He knew that he had changed considerably in the past years, in no small part thanks to Anna and her amazing, enduring love, but that side of him remained, was always lurking in the shadows. What if it should emerge and take over him on arrival of the child? He had to confess that he had always been wildly jealous of anyone else possibly conquering Anna's attentions and affections, and he hated himself for admitting that he may hold such resentment to his own child over the same thing. He had not the slightest idea about children, and he could only be a bitter disappointment to Anna and their baby, who he would fail in every way imaginable as it depended on him so entirely. Amongst the many thoughts that often returned to occupy him, his thought that the chance to be a father had long passed him by had been for the most part one which had relieved him. As one by one all of his friends, comrades and colleagues had had children, he considered that it was only right that he hadn't. He thought that there was a reason for it being so; several, in fact, and all of them justified. Yet with Anna, children were all he could think of. Each time he looked into her eyes, he could see them there, giggling and playing and wrapped in her arms. She was born to become a mother; her very nature, so kind and caring and compassionate, made her absolutely perfect for the role. If any aspect of him, be it his age or his many past mistakes and incompatibilities, deprived her of what was her God-given right he would berate himself forever. Anna had made him feel more assured that he could be a good father, at least if she were there alongside him to be a wonderful mother.

With each day that passed, he believed in himself a little more, thanks to all of the kisses and embraces she returned to him, the love that always stayed so strong in the face of the most inconseqential doubt. The nights drew in, the date drew closer. Anna would sit at the fireside each evening, picking up her needles and conscientiously knitting woollen hats and booties that were ever so small; a smile playing upon her face as the flames danced, shining onto her and making her appear even more golden and radiant. Gazing at her rapt in such concentration, he could not fail to be warmed too, if not a little alarmed at how tiny something would have to be to fit into the garments. Yet as he watched her, so full of quiet joy and peace as she worked against the firelight, the worries and the thoughts still crowded around the edges. As the darkness came in once more, he'd be closed in by them completely, searching desperately for the light.

The light was gradually fading from the day, the sun beginning to sink over Downton. John sighed. The sight was spectacular. The sky looked incredible; if he had not known otherwise, he would have sworn he was scrutinising a watercolour instead of looking from the window. Colours stretched across its expanse, vibrant shades of red brushed with soft lilac. It was just so beautiful. He had spent the entire day being absorbed and surrounded by beauty, and he felt it most keenly as he gazed down to look at her again. His daughter shifted where he held her in his arms, her tiny fingers reaching out to grab at the air, before she settled peacefully the next second. Just simply standing there, with her warm little body resting against him, he was completely peaceful too. What a contrast to twenty four hours previous. He would not forget the relief that had washed over him as Mrs Hughes entered the hall, a beaming smile upon her face. Another long night of worry replaced in an instant by the calm that had descended. Mrs Hughes hadn't had to say anything, yet she affirmed the news.

"Well, it took a while, but mother and baby are absolutely fine."

It seemed to take forever to make his way to the room at the other side of the house, though he quickened his pace, anxious to see his wife after more than a day of being apart and to meet his child. The beat of his heart sped and he could hear the frantic breaths come from him as he clambered to get closer. When he finally reached the door, already ajar, and gently pushed it open wider, he was arrested by the sight before him. He would never forget it, but he wished he could have held onto the exact sensation that possessed him at that very moment for the rest of his life. He was stopped in his tracks by it; he'd almost stopped breathing. Maybe he had, the vision looked so much like Heaven. Anna laying in the bed, a glow all around her, a glow that was her, cradling the baby in her arms. She was already so natural, instantly fulfilling the calling that was always destined to be hers, and as he looked at her, absolutely enthralled and overwhelmed with all the love in the world for the tiny bundle she was holding, he felt his heart was bursting. He had never beheld such a magnificent sight, of his two girls there, in front of his eyes. The both of them perfect in every way. Engrossed too, he let out a sigh without being aware. Instantly, Anna looked up from the child towards him and the love that was within her gaze expanded even further and flooded through to his own. Bathed in light and beauty, she smiled at him. Almost the same smile as she had given the last time her eyes had been upon him, but now bigger and brighter and filled with so much pure joy and love. In that instant, life had changed forever. It was wonderful; it was complete.

John turned from the window into the room, keeping his arms firm around the baby and his eyes fixed upon Anna. Her head was resting upon the headboard and she had fallen asleep sitting up. It didn't look like the most comfortable position, but it was no wonder she had had to surrender. She had been absolutely exhausted, enduring such a long labour, yet despite being told that it was perfectly understandable for her to rest, she had fought against sleep for hours afterwards, wanting to hold, nurse and simply stare at the child. Anna seemed intent on not missing any of her daughter's sighs, wriggles or breaths, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, fascinated.

Throughout the day there had also been a steady stream of visitors to the room, excited to see the new arrival. A little while after they'd spent some time together as a family they had started; first Mrs Patmore, Daisy and Ivy, then a collection of the other maids coming in in pairs, all cooing and fussing over the little girl who remained rather oblivious to the commotion, choosing to sleep for most of the time instead. Late in the afternoon and for the first time since she had departed at the breaking of the day, Mrs Hughes returned to the room, the sentimental smile still on her features. She stroked the baby's fine fair hair softly and Anna didn't so much ask but insisted that the housekeeper hold the child. Mrs Hughes seemed rather taken aback at first but then gladly obliged and was instantly smitten, gently rocking her back and forth as the baby kicked her legs contently. John had to break into a smile of his own as he heard the housekeeper laugh and saw the tears prickling at her eyes. Not long ago, Lady Grantham greeted them with her presence, clasping her hands together, offering warmest congratulations to them both and reaffirming her words from the previous night: that everything was so wonderful. Her enthusiasm might have been a little exaggerated, but right then it seemed perfectly acceptable. Then as she departed the room, Lady Mary peeked her head almost shyly through the door, asking if it was okay for her to enter. Anna smiled warmly.

"Of course, m'lady."

She did so, and walked over to where Anna lay with the baby snug in her arms. She had been sleeping, but as soon as Lady Mary leaned over to catch sight of her, the little girl's eyes flickered open. Anna giggled and after a few seconds, Lady Mary laughed softly too.

"Oh Anna, she's just lovely. I'm so overjoyed, for you both."

John noticed the melancholic sadness that flickered over Lady Mary's face as she stared at the baby, and he let his gaze fall to the floor. She left soon after, not before presenting a beautiful silver-plated rattle as a gift from the Crawley family.

Rocking the baby ever so slightly, John couldn't take his eyes from Anna as she slept, chest rising and falling softly with peaceful breaths. Even with her hair mussed messily upon the pillow and some still plastered to her forehead with dried sweat, she looked stunning. Just as she always was. She had been especially radiant during the later stages of pregnancy, her golden hair glossy and her cheeks flushed with a rosy blush. He had to laugh to himself thinking of all the times she had caught him looking longingly at her and stared back with an exasperated expression, insisting that what he thought to be a pleasant flush was instead just the consequence of being permanently hot and bothered, and that it wasn't pleasant for her at all. As she struggled to move easily about the cottage, she complained that she looked and felt as though she were the size of a whale and was not even as attractive. But he knew otherwise. She had never appeared so beautiful to him as when she had blossomed with fullness, with the beauty of having their baby within her. He told her so over again, as his fingers lingered on the strands of her loose hair before he tucked them behind her ear and kissed the spot just beneath her earlobe, his lips moving across her jawline and her cheek before they finally captured her lips, his hands caressing her stomach gently. He could feel her smile into the kiss as it deepened and she worked to steady her breathing as they pulled back from each other, reluctantly.

_"I believe you. Now we'd better control ourselves, or this baby will be arriving sooner than quite anticipated."_

She gave him a mischievous grin that lit up all of her features before ambling away towards the stairs. He watched her every step, feeling quite overcome and enamoured again by her and every aspect of her breathtaking beauty.

He smiled as he watched her resting, without a care in the world. Checking she was perfectly at ease, his gaze was directed back to the other beautiful girl that had entered his life. John looked down at his daughter, taking all of her in; her eyelids that were closed, the eyelashes that were already so long fluttering against them, her cute little button nose. He could have spent hours simply standing there, studying all of her features, and he'd find something new to be awed by every second. She was so very perfect, the image of Anna in miniature form. He had already known that if their baby was a girl that she would be the double of Anna; he remembered once seeing a picture of Anna as a child, and already their daughter was so much like her. As they had sat side by side during that first hour of her life, watching her together in wonder, Anna had tried to convince him that the baby did in fact have his lips, and the curve of his chin, but as much as he loved her for attempting such persuasion, he couldn't be fooled. It was plain for anyone who looked upon her to see: she was all Anna. And he couldn't be happier at the fact. It was all that he had ever wanted. He continued to marvel silently at her, not wanting to move an inch lest she should be disturbed from her slumber. The next moment, though he had not made a sound and had kept perfectly still in position, even if he was beginning to ache slightly from doing so, she awoke with a start. John jumped a little, and began to rock her once more, trying to soothe her back to sleep with soft hushes. Yet, she didn't cry and did not seem at all discomforted. Instead, she was quite contented indeed. Her big blue eyes were staring up into his darker ones, full of innocence and curiosity. A pang hit his chest and stomach at once. He felt overwhelmed with love for this tiny person, his daughter; an unconditional love that was much stronger than any other force. Looking into her eyes, ready to be filled with surprise at the world she was going to start to discover so soon, he could see the future reflected back.

Suddenly, in this perfect moment, he became overwhelmed with fear. Time began to unravel before him, the future unfolding at a faster rate than he could comprehend. His mind whirred into action once more, at triple the speed, and was all the more disorientating given the peace he had been experiencing, the dream he had been lost in all day long. The babe that had been so small lying in his arms had grown considerably, was now a much older child, running around, out into the world. He could see himself trying desperately to follow her, to keep watch upon her, but it was impossible for him to keep up as she bounded away so full of energy, almost out of sight and out of his reach. He felt tired, and weak. It was his responsibility to guide her, protect her, yet he was almost certainly incapable of doing so. She ran faster, blonde curls bobbing, her laughter travelling on the air. She seemed to get older with every leap she took. There was so much she had yet to encounter and he hoped sincerely she would only ever know the wonder the world had to offer, but he couldn't be so naïve. As his little girl began to blossom into a young woman, bigger threats as well as joys would be emerging ready to grasp at her. So many thoughts rushed around his head. He had to be there to see her through everything; it was what a father should do effortlessly. And he would do his utmost for as long as he was in the world, but who knew how long that would be? He was getting older; he was much older than most first-time fathers. There was a very great chance that he may not live to see his daughter reach eighteen. The thought of leaving her and Anna alone in the world crushed his heart completely; he could see so clearly Anna's ashen face and forlorn figure, and his daughter's eyes, now clouded and troubled, every trace of their cheerful innocence erased.

Walking slowly back towards the window and observing the lowering sun once more, John mentally shook himself free of such anxieties. It was true he would most likely spend every waking moment from now on worrying about her welfare but such a situation was inevitable, and would do nothing to lessen his joy. It was precisely out of love that he had felt so intensely. Ever so carefully, he tipped the angle of his arms, craning his body so that the child was facing in the same direction and could see everything he could.

"Well, my sweetheart, welcome to the world. I know you won't really notice much of it now; I'm only just seeing certain things within it for the first time, and I have no idea how I hadn't seen them before. I think it may have something to do with you being here to help me."

She wriggled underneath his hands and gurgled, and John couldn't help but smile in response.

"We'll both get to discover it together. But it's wonderful, and there will be so much of it for you to explore and love."

He paused to stare out again, contemplating the grand grounds that stretched out all around. It was still quite a lot to comprehend.

"This is Downton Abbey. It's a very special place. I couldn't know how special it was when I arrived here. It's where the Granthams, who are so very kind and generous, live. It's where I met and fell in love with your beautiful mother."

He looked over his shoulder to glance at Anna, still lying and looking like an absolute angel, before turning back to see the baby staring up at him.

"And now, it's the place you were born. Even though it's not our home, we'll always have ties here. There are so many very kind people here, people who will make you laugh and sing, people who will teach you so many good things, people who already cherish you. You will always be safe here."

She stretched her arms out again, curling her fingers to reach up towards him.

"But you'll be safest of all at home. It's not too far away from here. We'll be back there soon, and we've spent so much time getting it ready for you so that you'll be so happy there. Your mother has worked especially hard, preparing it all for you. You already do, I know, but you are going to love her so much. And she loves you with all of her heart. She has so much to show you and give you, you'll be so amazed by her, and I can't wait to see you spending every minute of every day together, because I know you'll be inseparable. You're going to be so much like her, and that will make everyone so blessed that there should be two of you walking this world so wonderful. And then, there's me…"

John took a deep breath before he continued, getting everything he wanted to say straight in his head but finding all of his finely composed words and thoughts deserting him.

"I love you with all of my heart too, and there is so much I want to promise you. If I had the keys to the world, I would give them to you right now so you could make the most of everything. I don't know if I shall always be the best person to look up to, but from now on I will never stop trying to make you and your mother proud. And I will be there for you to come to, to pick you up when you fall, to be on your side, for as long as I can. I'll tell you everything I know and have learnt, if it will be of use to you, and you'll probably tell me not to think myself so clever."

He smiled as she scrunched up her little face, as if she was already telling him so.

"But there is one thing I can promise you now; that I will do everything in my power to look after you, take care of you, and keep you completely safe. As long as I'm here, I will never let anything hurt you, and I will always adore you."

"She already knows that you'll do all of that."

He turned around to see Anna awake, sitting herself up a little higher in the bed, still looking tired but at the same time really quite vibrant; her eyes were positively twinkling and the permanent smile was once more upon her lips.

"But I loved to hear you say it all the same," her soft voice came forth again, "It made my heart leap almost to the roof."

He smiled a little sheepishly back towards her, slightly embarrassed that she should hear him be so candid but also quite overjoyed that he should have added to her happiness with his jumble of words.

"You should be resting, you've barely had any sleep."

"I am resting, despite everything else I should like to do. Besides, how can I sleep knowing what is here for me while I'm awake?" Her smile reached even further up to her eyes as her features and everything about her softened while she stared at him standing at the foot of the bed. "It's the best thing I have ever seen, and shall ever see: to watch you holding her. If nothing else were to happen for the rest of time, I'd be perfectly happy."

He shifted on the spot, adjusting the weight in his arms and frowning down slightly. "I'm not sure I'm holding her correctly. I'm certainly not as natural as you."

"Silly. You're doing it more than fine, as I always knew you would. She'd let you know if she was uncomfortable and she seems very pleased." In the peaceful silence of the room, they could both hear the baby's soft gurgles; music to their ears.

"Still, I think she would like to be back with her mother."

He walked with careful steps to the side of the bed, and lowered himself onto it next to her almost in slow-motion, keeping his arms held fast in position and his eyes firm on the child's face, anxious to detect the slightest bit of discomfort from her. Anna tried her best to hold back her giggles at the sight, but had to give in. John's head turned to her and he began to chuckle too; he had always found her laughter infectious, and he realised he was being rather absurd. He leant over a little further and suspended the melody of her giggling with a tender kiss. She responded fervently and they shared a couple more kisses before he pulled his head away to look deep and lovingly into her eyes.

"I am so proud of you. I always have been, but I am even more so now." He shifted so the baby could rest on the covers against the crook of his arm, and touched his free hand to Anna's forearm, stroking softly. "You're so very, very brave, my darling. The doctor said he had never known a first-time mother to cope so admirably."

Anna gazed intently at the movement of his fingertips across her, and then looked up at him. "I don't know about brave. I just knew what was waiting and that got me through." Her eyes travelled down to look at the little girl lying on the bed, and John's followed suit, both enchanted. "I couldn't wait to meet her. Our daughter."

The little girl kicked her legs as John placed her against the covers, right in front of Anna. She waved her little arms in delight looking up at her mother and John could not wipe the grin from his face. Anna owned both of their hearts and they couldn't be in safer possession. Anna smiled brightly down at her daughter, stroking her soft cheek, before taking her tiny hand with her fingers.

"I can't quite believe it, still. She's here, John. She's finally here."

Anna's head fell against John's shoulder, and he buried his nose into her hair before laying one kiss on her crown and another above her ear. Their hands lay entwined on the covers of the bed and laced themselves together tighter. He could only think of this moment, and how perfect it was.

"She is, and she's perfect," he said in a soft whisper. "I didn't think this day would ever come, but now I never want it to end." The shadows were falling across the room, and the baby was following them with her inquisitive eyes. "You really are stuck with me for good and proper now."

Anna snuggled her face into his neck. "And I couldn't be happier," she whispered into his ear before tilting his face towards hers and laying an assured kiss upon his lips that conveyed exactly how overjoyed she was to be stuck with him. "It's another new beginning for us now, and I am so excited for the journey. Us three."

They were three now. His two beautiful, brilliant girls and him. It really was the start of a new life, and one which was going to be full of surprises but always completely wonderful with every turn it took. He was so very lucky to have them both and he would never let them go.

They lay there for some time, in quiet harmony, perfectly content just to watch the little girl's every movement in rapture, Anna cradling her close to them both as they kept so close to one another. Their happy sighs were all that were to be heard, until Anna turned yet closer to him and he felt her warm breath playing against his neck.

"She hasn't got a name yet," she pondered, the thought only just occurring to them in their blissful reverie. "Well, aside from Baby Bates."

John smiled, his chest shuddering with a chuckle. "I rather like that."

"I do too," Anna snickered. "But it's not going to prove very practical, in the future. We'll get awfully confused." She was already thinking of the brothers and sisters they were going to give this little one, their cottage full to bursting with little hands and feet traipsing about. "She can't just be 'she' for the rest of time."

Both of them gazed down thoughtfully at their nameless daughter, studying her intently. They had spent a few nights in the cottage some months back going through lists of names for all eventualities, with so many options they'd been almost overwhelmed. Neither of them getting any further to settling on a definite, they'd made the choice to wait until the baby arrived, being sure that once he or she got there, they would make the decision for them. As soon as they looked into the little face, they would know instantly what it would be. Yet they hadn't counted on being quite so caught up in the very presence of their child being with them, that they'd find themselves at a total loss.

Suddenly, as they continued to look lovingly upon her face, a spark of inspiration went off in John's head. How he hadn't thought of it sooner, he hadn't quite comprehended. He was taken back in time by short hours, to the first moments he had laid eyes upon his little daughter and his amazing wife lying in the bed, the golden sunlight all around them both, framing them wonderfully. The light had only got stronger and brighter in the room as the three of them had huddled together, held in time. He had remembered tearing his eyes away from the perfect sight of them both briefly to look towards the horizon beyond, and being almost blinded by the ray that had streamed through. The only time he had ever seen the sun shine so bright at such an early hour before was the day that had signalled the end of his incarceration, coming as a sign of freedom, joy and hope. A new beginning, which he recognised with every part of him in an instant. It seemed ideal, really.

"What about Eleanor?" he ventured, tentatively.

Anna smiled. "Eleanor. Eleanor Bates." She stared down at the little girl, who now definitely did have a name, and her grin grew wider. "It suits her. I love it. And I think she does too." They looked at their daughter, who was wriggling and kicking frantically and very happily, and both laughed in wonder at her.

"Hello, Eleanor," John greeted her and reached out his hand to tickle her on the stomach, but she grabbed her own onto one of his fingers before he could do so, and he felt an immense surge of love rush through him.

Anna grinned contentedly at the scene before her, and turned to watch John, who was absolutely enchanted.

"Where did you come up with that? I've never heard you mention the name before." she questioned.

John happily waved his finger back and forth, with Eleanor's tiny fist still wrapped tight around it.

"Oh, it was just something I thought of."

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**A/N: Eleanor (according to the oracle that is the internet) means _'sun ray, shining light'_. When I found out, I couldn't even think of choosing another name for their daughter.**

**There will be future instalments of this - as yet unwritten - but right now I can't say for sure when they will be appearing, except that it will most likely, or rather definitely, be next year (it's slightly weird saying that...). I am hoping to get some seasonal 'fics done and dusted, so they're taking priority for the moment. But this will most definitely be revisited with more Bates babies (oh, the thought...*squee*) in time to come. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: It's been forever since I started writing this story! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. But finally, here we are with more Baby Bates. Thanks to everyone who has read and followed, and for being so faithful! I hope this makes you smile.**

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Anna Bates had spent most of her life working, and as a result, knew only too well what it was like to be tired. From an early age, when she had arisen at the break of dawn to set about helping on her parents' farm to the many sunsets she had worked long past in her many years of service at Downton Abbey, she could confidently say that she had experienced the true meaning of the word, in every single imaginable way possible. There had been days, more than she had been able to keep count of, where she had spent the morning and afternoon working herself to the bone, so utterly exhausted that she had barely been able to stay standing through her evening duties. Other times she had been so weary that she had been lifted over the boundaries and emerged through to the other side, with very little rest whatsoever. It had become so much like second nature to her that in a strange way, feeling tired was often what kept her trooping on. The thought of dropping into her bed at the end of the day, sinking into a sleep that never really lasted long enough but was so deep and enveloping that it claimed her as soon as her head touched the pillow, was the very thing that ensured that she could cope with the full and drawn out hours.

Yet now, resting on the settee in the sitting room of the cottage, she had been overtaken by a completely different kind of fatigue; one that quite knocked the life out of her, depleting her energy in each slow second that slipped by. With drooping eyelids, she blinked hazily at the hands of the clock atop the fireplace, squinting slightly to keep them in place in her vision. After more than a few seconds, she was able to ascertain the time: a little past half past seven. Even in her less than alert state, Anna could work out that she had been awake for nearing fifteen hours.

Eleanor had had a very fitful night, not sleeping solidly for more than half an hour at most. On the umpteenth time they had got up in quick succession to answer her cries, Anna had decided that it would be easier all round if, at least for that night, Eleanor slept with them in their bed. John carried her with careful, halting steps over the floorboards, settling the little girl down gently in the middle of the mattress, where she nestled against the covers, wrinkling up her face and whimpering a little. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed a large hand upon the small forehead, then pressed the backs of their fingers to flushed, clammy cheeks. His own face wrinkled in worry.

"She's very warm," he whispered, swiping a couple of fingertips back and forth over Eleanor's face before climbing cautiously back underneath the sheets.

Propping herself up on the pillow with her elbow, Anna touched her hand to the child and then half-smiled at her husband, the most lovingly fussy, overprotective father that ever lived.

"She's fine," she reassured, keeping her voice low in the quiet night. "Her temperature's gone down from this afternoon. I'm sure she's getting over it now."

She shuffled to lie back down, resting a hand on Eleanor's stomach over the covers, gazing as John soothingly and subconsciously stroked their daughter's feathery hair. As much as she longed for him to be at home with them for every hour of the day, Anna was rather glad that he'd been occupied for a while longer with Lord Grantham today, while Eleanor had been at the peak of her sickness. In the darkness that was beginning to wane, she could make out the lines upon his features, the frown that had not fully faded, and radiated inside with so much love.

"If she's not any better in the morning, then we'll go to see Doctor Clarkson again. But really, I think she'll be quite well. A mother knows these things."

She watched the smile appear much more certain on John's face and felt much more comfortable herself upon seeing it. The three of them stayed lying there, in the silence of the earliest hours of the morning, huddled close together. John's foot brushed comfortingly against her leg as they kept a faithful watch on their daughter, who though not sleeping now seemed much calmer than she had been all night. Eventually, John had had to give in, drifting off into a slumber that was much needed, given that he would have to rise for work in not that long at all. Anna felt perfectly happy to let sleep escape her then, revelling in taking in the sight of her husband so very peaceful, relieved of any worldly worry or trouble. She heard herself let out a contented sigh, her eyes entranced by his sleeping form, the sound of his soft snores. She'd had to work hard to stop herself from reaching her arm across the bed, to let her fingers flutter against his cheek, not wanting to stir or startle him. Yet on the other hand, she found she couldn't hold back certain visions from rushing blissfully through her head at the mere thought of doing so, feeling her stomach flip over just slightly. It had never taken much, but now even the slightest touch set her on fire, yearning intensely for him. Of course, they'd find time to be intimate, both getting restless if they were too long without each other and sensing without words when they simply needed to be together; such an instinctive, intuitive connection they shared. It was just that their encounters had to be hurried along a little, fit in between feeding times and coinciding with naps. Even in the throes of passion, Anna found herself with one eye guided towards the partly open doorway and one ear trained to listen for the slightest gurgle or cry. She thought that she really needed to take Mrs Hughes up on her offers to babysit; surely, they were owed quite a few nights alone by now.

She smiled as she saw Eleanor's eyes blink several times, growing ever heavy, and then finally fall shut, her small arm wrapped securely underneath Anna's chest. Anna herself did not manage get back to sleep, carefully picking up Eleanor and taking her back to her own little room as the dawn light started to stream through the curtains. She watched her husband dress for the day ahead and kissed him as he left the door of their home once more, sinking a little to know how quickly the morning had come around but lifting when he turned around at the gate, giving her a look and smile that melted her heart. The evening would be upon her before she knew it; he would be back again, and again they would be complete.

As it turned out, her mother's instinct had been right. Eleanor woke up a little while later, much brighter than she had been for the last few days, if still a little groggy first thing. Anna always had to chuckle when she crept in to the room, bottle of milk in hand, and saw her daughter scrunching up a little fist, swiping it across her eyes, facing the new morning with slight disbelief and more than slight displeasure.

"Oh, my angel, you do take after your mummy."

She had quite come to life later in the day, playing and toddling about the cottage, though the remnants of illness had worn her out quicker than usual and made her more subdued, which Anna couldn't quite decide was a good or bad thing. At least it gave her a little longer to rest herself, after a broken night's sleep. They had stayed almost frozen in the position they were in now for quite some time; Eleanor was draped across the settee, her legs curled against its arm on the one side, her blonde, loose curls in her mother's lap. She was sound asleep; Anna could feel her daughter's warm breath heaving out gently, floating against her stomach in reliable little falls. Manoeuvring herself a little, she reached down to stroke her head with the lightest of touches. Eleanor stayed perfectly still, not flinching at all, the only movement made a tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of her lips. Anna could have easily slipped into a trance staring at the little girl, completely lost to a dream world. Resisting so far, at that very second, she found she could not stifle a rather sizeable yawn. She tried her hardest to keep her eyes open; she was sure that they were. A fuzzy dimness swam ahead of her, a sudden warmth making her very dozy indeed. It couldn't hurt to surrender, not for a few seconds. Anna sunk deeper into a tired daze, eyelids fluttering as her body relaxed, turning weightless, turning into water against this calm that now surrounded her completely. Everything was flowing out away from her, letting her at ease, aside from her arms, which still hung heavy. They were filled with a weight, solid and warm; the presence wholly comforting, even though it was making her limbs ache with endurance, with love, with a little anxiety. Dreaming and reality became one as she felt wriggling against her arms, the warm little body shifting beneath her fingertips.

Anna's eyes were prised open upon feeling the movement. Sleepily, she smiled down at the head, covered with dark hair, that was nesting in the crook of her arm and the wide hazel-coloured eyes that were staring up at her intently, sparkling with the same alertness they had shown at every minute of the day, no visible traces of sleep possible to glimpse there. Even though she was more than a touch woozy with exhaustion, she had to keep grinning at the sight of the baby, so inquisitive at only a couple of months old, and Anna suspected, really quite clever too, although perhaps not when it came to sensing when bedtime was fast approaching. The pair of eyes darted around the room as little limbs kicked out, tiny toes punching at her elbow. When they had taken everything in and were quite satisfied that there was nothing else that could hold their attention half as well, they landed firmly back upon their mother. Anna sighed lightly as she beheld them, shining into her own, far more tired ones.

"Alice Bates, you are a little livewire. You haven't done so much as slept a wink all day long! How you haven't tired yourself out, I don't have the faintest idea."

She was sure she could detect a smile on her youngest daughter's face in answer to her questioning, her slightly chubby cheeks filling out, and sounds that were curiously like giggles escaping her little lungs. Anna shook her head, before breaking into a chuckle herself. She covered her hand over the tiny fist that had flown into the air, letting Alice's naturally held warmth wash over her and absolute adoration fill her up, the powerful rush almost being enough to take her out of the overwhelming weariness that possessed her.

"Don't you want to go to sleep, just for a little while; just so Mummy can have a bit of a rest? No?"

The baby only continued to gaze up at her, and gurgle quite happily. Still, she could not ignore the way that her heart had leapt and all of her senses enlivened at simply holding her daughter and watching her carefully, seeing her so very lively and completely content.

"Okay then, we'll stay up a little longer. But it's getting very late. If you're awake for much longer, you'll miss all of the fun tomorrow."

Anna unclasped her hand from Alice's, stretching down to rub against the tummy that was clothed in a soft, white romper suit, dressed as she was for bed. Resting her for a moment against the arm of the settee, she planted both hands securely either side of the infant and, with a little heave, lifted her up. Alice's arms shot out, fingers grasping at nothing, and her chubby little legs wriggled as Anna bounced her up and down against the air in front of her. Her smile grew wider as she watched her tiny daughter in such delight, eyes glowing as if to ask for more, and she was happy to oblige, the heaviness that had weighed her down for a while previously falling away with each cheerful cry that came from Alice. After a while, she slowed the bounces down until stopping them completely, and grinned into the rosy-cheeked face held still before her, looking slightly puzzled that the fun should have come to a halt. Anna gazed into the still bright little eyes, smiling to herself as she settled the baby snugly against her shoulder, the soft wispy hair of her head brushing against her cheek and breathing in her comforting scent, of milk and soap and powder. Alice made a little huffing sound at her ear, tiny hands coming to settle just below her neck. Her legs shifted about a bit, and Anna could feel her head craning up, stretching and trying her best to peek over the edge of the settee towards the hallway. Her lips set themselves into a smirk as she smoothed her fingertips down Alice's hunched back.

"I know your game, my darling." She turned her head gently, pressing her lips lightly to Alice's warm cheek and hearing her murmur. "You're waiting up for your daddy."

Alice was a daddy's girl in every sense of the word. She had John's colouring and features, aside from her little rosebud mouth which was inherited from her mother. Even in these early days when her personality was in the process of forming, Anna knew it was very much influenced by John's own temperament. When she was carrying the child, Anna had been utterly convinced that she would be having a boy. This pregnancy was a complete parallel to her first, and although she wasn't one for old wives' tales, it all seemed too much to ignore. The lay of her stomach she noticed was quite different as she sat in bed each night examining its steady swell, her body ached in places that hadn't given her much trouble when she was carrying Eleanor. She craved savoury foods instead of sweet. Most strikingly, she slept incredibly soundly every night. If it hadn't been for John giving her a gentle nudge as daylight had blossomed outside each morning, she would have very likely slumbered until going on noon. So when Alice made her arrival after long hours, Anna was quite surprised but absolutely delighted. She'd always had such a strong bond with her own sister growing up that she was overjoyed that Eleanor would have a little sister to share such things with, too. And from the minute she was placed into her arms, when she laid eyes on the face that slowly unfurled itself to the world and saw how she was the very image of her father, Anna's heart was captured completely. Seeing Alice was exactly like falling in love with John all over again, and the feeling overwhelmed her like never before. When John held her for the first time, minutes afterwards, Anna thought she was going to float away to heaven completely. She grasped onto the bedsheets either side of her with the strength she had remaining to make sure that she stayed precisely where she was, not wanting to miss a thing as John gazed down at their wonderful daughter. A warm smile spread instantly over his face as he did so, and tears of joy welled in Anna's watching eyes.

"She does look like me," he'd said, after a few moments spent in silent awe. "Poor little mite."

Anna shook her head softly, unable to take the smile from her face as he brought them closer to the bed, to both rest beside her.

"She's absolutely beautiful," she breathed, as the baby settled against her chest, her warm head radiating against the placement of her heart, where she would remain forever from that moment on.

Two months had passed since that evening, and Anna wondered where the time had been lost to. Alice was a very good baby, content and placid. She hardly ever cried, and when she did it was never for very long, and somehow, even sounded relatively pleasant. Anna knew she should thank her lucky stars for having such a serene child, and she did just that. There were only two problems that came to mind concerning her, and both were proving quite troublesome to overcome. The first was that, just as now, it was almost impossible to get her to sleep in the evening. She would wake early in the morning and remain awake until very late indeed, much later than one so tiny should be up. It was as if she wanted to take every single second and sight of the day in, or otherwise just did not require as much rest as any other child. The second problem was connected to the first, and made it even more trying for Anna. Alice was quite reluctant to do anything when John wasn't there, and as he was gone from the cottage for the best part of the day, it was a very big problem indeed. She had managed to feed Alice successfully with a fairly minimal amount of coaxing, but every other task was a feat of endurance, at least until John came home. Anna felt awful for him; after a long day at the house, he should have been able to come back and sink into the chair by the fireplace, whiling away the rest of the evening in peace, yet instead he was up and about, seeing to Alice's every need. He never complained, simply took up the baby in his strong grasp with a grin and went off, carrying her to the little tub for her bath, talking to her in soft, soothing tones all the while.

In truth, Anna loved the relationship that had formed so quickly and naturally between father and daughter; her heart swelled in her chest every time she regarded the two of them together, they made such a perfect picture and she adored both of them so much. She wouldn't have changed it for the world, but she was beginning to get more than a little worried about her own abilities to comfort and care for her child. Sometimes she would lie awake in bed at night, wondering if it was a sign of something more serious. If she was like this now, how would it be in the future? Did Alice really not love her as much as John? It was completely ridiculous, she told herself so repeatedly, but still the worry ate away at her.

She had to admit she'd never really considered children being part of her life, at least not her own at any rate. That was until she met John, and everything changed before she could comprehend. Her love for him was so consuming, so true, so much more than the both of them. Then it was only right to her that she should have his children, if God blessed them one day. Indeed, it would have made her heart ache to not have fallen, to not have held a baby that was formed of both of them, a pure, beautiful embodiment of their love that would persist after they both left the earth. She'd hoped so much that it would happen, at times thinking that the chance would surely never arrive, that she supposed she'd taken for granted how she would be as a mother. She wasn't sure that she was as natural in the role as she might have liked or expected to be, and she was quite certain that she was not as natural as John thought she would be. It was quite improbable to do so, but she couldn't help from comparing herself to her own mother and the way she had been raised. By no means was she the model, but her mother had been wise, tenacious, a little strict at times but always fair, teaching her and her siblings about the wide world but always giving unconditional love within their own four walls and so much of herself so selflessly. If Anna could be half the mother to her daughters as her own had been to her, she would be more than happy, but she wasn't sure how well she was living up to the task. How she wished she would have watched her more closely, listened more intently to the words she insisted she would be heeding one day. More than that, Anna wished she would have lived to meet her granddaughters, and another little stab of sorrow panged at her. Still, she knew that they were surrounded by more than enough love, and that would have made her mother happy. Another one of her many sayings came into Anna's head, recalled from years back: _"You can't live on love alone, but it makes for the most wonderful life."_

Thinking again of her mother's words, she smiled at Alice snuggled and snuffling against her, marvelling at her softness and warmth, and stifled another yawn, not wanting to disturb her perfectly peaceful daughter. It was certainly more tiring than she had bargained on, caring for a toddler and new baby. In the twenty years she had been in service, when there had been very few days when she wasn't on her feet for hours, rushing about to and fro, she had never experienced exhaustion like it. There really was no comparison; her concentration was tried much more by spending all day with her eyes trained cautiously on two small children, who had the potential to cause far greater chaos with a curious, grasping hand than the wrong wine being sent out at dinner. God knows that throughout the years the Crawley ladies had proven a challenge, fussing over the drop of a hemline or testing her patience with the sudden urgent desire for a new hairstyle, but it was a damn sight more difficult to get a little girl who just loved to jump and wriggle about into a rather simple dress, while the other cooed and gurgled loudly for some attention.

It was still astounding to Anna how two such tiny beings could demand so much, taking over her life with so little effort on their part. Though she always got on with everything the best she could with the fewest protestations, she had grumbled more than a little to herself when she had been a maid, usually when she'd had to traipse about at some ungodly hour, being disturbed from dreams that were far more preferable. Looking back, she wondered how she had ever had the nerve to complain. Some days, it was all she desired; to be at Downton Abbey, with a full day's work to occupy her. She did feel very guilty about it, but at certain moments of the day she longed for some adult company, some conversation, even if it was Miss O'Brien's sniping. Even though it had been a little more than eighteen months, it still felt strange to her not to be dressing in her uniform, to be leaving the cottage with her right hand held firm in his left as they set off together on the fairly lengthy walk. She missed being so close to him, talking about all that was happening at the house as they walked arm in arm. She missed the anticipation, the funny feeling that still sprang up in her, if she happened upon him in the vast corridors or passed him on the stairs as they were going about their duties. Most of all, she missed having him sit by her side, mending something while she did the same or just simply watched; his touch and presence so near that she would find herself sinking into it, letting her responsibilities fly from her, occupied completely by him.

It was silly really; as soon as he came home at night, he would seek her out and take his place beside her at once, slipping an arm easily around her waist and lacing a hand in hers, feeling it yearning and waiting for him. Sitting together in the servants' hall every day was nothing compared to lying at each other's side each night, wrapped in embraces that were so natural to them now. Here, she had the vision of life she had held in her head for years, the one that not that long ago she had not dared to dream of lest it never came true. Even if it was not as she expected in every aspect, it was real and she was eternally thankful for that. Anna knew more than most people that life was nothing if not unpredictable, and she had been well prepared to cope for all eventualities. The girls really were very good, she suspected much more well behaved than many other infants of a similar age. Of course, they had their moments, and there were days where they could be lively enough to run her absolutely ragged within an hour of being up. But those times were few and far between, rare chaotic occasions placed between days full of happiness and harmony. While she was pottering around the rooms, she would cast her eye upon them and all it would take was for one smile or sparkle held within their eyes to light up her life completely. Sometimes she couldn't quite believe how much she loved these two little girls, so different but so alike too, bringing them both so much joy with every breath they took. She truly couldn't imagine her life without them being in it; they had changed both of their lives beyond all compare, and had made their lives entirely.

As she made to shift Alice slightly in her arms, Anna heard the key turn in the lock of the door, followed seconds later by shuffling steps in the hallway and the soft thud of a cane against the floorboards. She felt the baby begin to squirm underneath her fingers and chuckled. Giving her a cuddle, Anna whispered into Alice's little shell of an ear.

"He's home."

She turned them both in the settee to see John entering the room, his stride slowing when he took glimpse of his family nestled in the seat, the smiles sparking on both of their faces as perfect mirror images of each other. Anna was sure she smiled a little wider with every day that passed, each time he returned home once more.

"Hello, my darling girls."

He moved to the side of the chair, still wearing his overcoat, and bent down to kiss the tops of all of their heads in turn. His lips were so warm on Anna's forehead, and she sighed as he craned further to capture her mouth, with such tenderness that still took her by surprise. Another little noise escaped her when he deepened the kiss slightly, and his hand stayed stroking her hair softly as his head pulled away from hers, his eyes piercing hers that still hung rather tired.

"You're a little earlier this evening."

"Yes, his Lordship was keen to retire early tonight, I think the anxiety of waiting is getting to him somewhat." He stayed staring deep at her, let out a sigh and smiled warmly. "I've no complaints, not when it means I can get back to all of you sooner."

Anna beamed back in response, reaching to catch his fingers with hers. "Me neither. Would that it were this way every night."

Their hands stayed entwined as, after folding his coat over the back of the seat, John walked around, crouching down carefully to come close to where Eleanor was laying in Anna's lap.

"How has she been today?" he enquired, gliding his free hand over Eleanor's ringlets, the tips of his fingers briefly touching her forehead.

"She's been very well," Anna replied, the smile she was still wearing apparent in her voice. "I think she's almost completely recovered. She ate most of her dinner no trouble, and has been fast asleep ever since." She watched the movements of John's fingers as he kept on reverently sweeping them over the sleeping girl, being so cautious not to cause her to wake, and Anna felt a warmth wrap around her heart as it beat. "This little miss, however, has been keeping me on my toes, as usual." With the arm that was wrapped around her, she gave Alice a little bounce, and giggled despite her weariness. "She just will simply not do as she is told."

John rose, shaking his head and letting out a throaty chortle. "Stubborn as anything. And you say she takes after me? There's the proof she doesn't completely."

"Cheeky beggar."

She made to swat his arm, but his reflexes were too quick to catch as he scooped Alice up from her grasp.

"I think I would have been in bed an hour ago, if she hadn't wanted to keep me awake. I've done everything – rocking her, taking her out into the garden, singing a lullaby…"

"Well, she probably wanted to hear you give a whole concert. I know I would."

Anna scrunched up her face, until he tilted his head towards her, giving her a look of utter sincerity, and softened completely. "Any way, I know not to try it again. Nothing seems to…" The words were snatched from her as she had to close her eyes abruptly, giving out a wide yawn. She took her hand from where she had placed it to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"You've no need to say so." John sat Alice upon his arm, bouncing her up and down a little as he found the infant's gaze. "Now Alice, you have to listen. You must go to sleep a little sooner. Your poor mummy is tired out keeping you occupied."

Alice patted her hands against John's chest with enthusiasm, kicking out her little feet, and gurgling in response to his words. Though he was trying to keep his face serious, he couldn't maintain the pretence as his youngest daughter looked at him so cheekily and utterly fascinated, and Anna was similarly enchanted by the sight of the both of them before her, admiring how very loving and tender John was with their baby. He was such a wonderful father, and it melted her completely.

"Now, let's see if we can try it out together first," he chimed to Alice, walking her back and forth across the length of the sitting room. "We both want to make mummy happy, don't we?"

"Oh John, I'll settle her, it's no trouble. You've only just got in…" She made to move from her seat, lifting Eleanor up in her arms, when he stopped in front of her, placing his hand into the air.

"No, you've had them both all day. You deserve to sit back and have a break." He gave her a firm but deeply pleading look that it was quite impossible to argue with, and Anna sank back into the settee. Turning to Alice, a smile washed over his features. "Besides, I haven't spent near enough time with this little darling for what feels like the whole week. I've missed it."

Tears of joy began to cloud Anna's vision as she kept her eyes firmly focused on the heartwarming scene before her. "And she's missed you too. We all have."

John's eyes looked a little misty too as he padded over, keeping Alice secure in his grip while he lowered himself to sit beside Anna. Immediately, she felt the heat of his body spread against her own, and felt as if she were whole again, everything in its rightful place. He leant in a little further to where the curve of her was, and she rested her head on his shoulder for a while, feeling completely content.

"How was your day?" Anna asked after a while, lifting herself to look at her husband, wanting to absorb everything he had to say about life at the Abbey.

"It was fine, nothing too out of the ordinary. Mr Carson's having the footmen run themselves ragged, and is trying to insist Mrs Hughes do the same with the maids, but I can tell you she's having none of it."

Anna laughed, vividly picturing the two elders of downstairs having some sort of half-meant disagreement, like a couple who had been married for decades would do. "I can quite believe it."

"But everything is running smoothly, as much as it can." John paused, shifting Alice in his arms so he could lay one hand in Anna's lap, fingers falling softly against her wrist. "Lady Mary is doing well."

She smiled to hear this. "I'm so glad. Does anyone know if it will be long now?"

"I don't suspect so. Lady Grantham thinks it will be any day. Any minute even." The pad of his thumb stroked against the bone of her wrist, running little circles over it, and the hairs on the back of Anna's neck stood on end. "So we may all be called from our beds in the middle of the night."

"Well, I hope not, as excited as I am."

"Of course. You've never been one to want to leave your bed in a hurry."

They couldn't help but both burst into laughter at his statement, catching themselves hurriedly to keep it to a quiet giggle so as not to disturb the one daughter of theirs that was asleep.

"Lady Mary was waiting outside the study for me the other day," John informed. "She was asking after you. After the girls too. She said that she hoped to see you soon, as she was sure you'd have some tips to pass onto her."

Anna smiled wistfully. "I would like that. It'd be nice to go down for the afternoon. Have the girls see you at work." She got a little giddy even at the thought. Looking up from where their hands rested upon her knee, she saw John smiling encouragingly back at her.

"That would be wonderful," he exclaimed. "I'm not sure how thrilled Mr Carson would be to have children taking over downstairs, but a part of me thinks he'd be so overcome with joy at Lady Mary having given birth that he'd quite happily let things go to rack and ruin for a few days at least."

Laughter filled the air again, and John took up Anna's hand, bringing it to his mouth to leave a kiss imprinted upon her soft skin. She felt his lips shake a little against her, and Anna gazed towards him to see his expression a little clouded.

"You know, it is so different without you there. I should be used to it by now, but sometimes the days just drag, not seeing you climbing the stairs or sitting in the hall."

She couldn't stop a half-smile from ghosting upon her lips, his own thoughts fitting hers like the missing piece of a puzzle.

"I do like what I do, of course I do, but…" he took a sigh, clasping her hand in his own, "I would rather spend every second of the day right here, helping you with the girls."

The tears very nearly fell from her eyes on hearing him speak. Anna gave his hand a little squeeze, conveying without words how much she shared his convictions.

"Not to mention that I feel as though I am missing so much by not being here most hours of the day. More often than not by the time I arrive back, they're both asleep, and some days I don't even get to see them doing anything. All of the firsts they're taking, and most of them are passing me by. Our daughters are growing so fast, faster than I can keep up with."

She noticed him holding Alice a little tighter to him, clutching onto her little body, and Anna felt as if her heart could break.

"They're only little," she tried to reassure him. "There's so much more you can see them do, more than you and I can even imagine as of yet."

Anna turned herself, leaning closer to him, rubbing her hand lightly on Alice's back and then letting it fall to his forearm that was balancing the little girl. He looked at her with soft eyes as she issued caresses against the downy hair there.

"I want you to be at home too, more than anything. Every morning when the time comes and you have to leave, it takes all I have not to run after you and pull you back with me."

"I wouldn't resist you doing so," he smirked with raised eyebrows, and Anna sighed, smiling in delight.

"But I know you need to work, for the good of all of us." She swiped her fingers over his arm, reaching around to touch his back where the settee didn't get in the way. "You like your job, I'm coping just fine, and the girls are happy. Of course, they'd be delighted to see more of their daddy, but that will come in time." Her eyes lit up in the same way as they had done so long ago, when she recalled the remnant of a long-held dream that neither had discussed in great detail but that both had still kept firm in their hearts. "I think we still need to get the money together, but we will have our hotel one day. Then the girls can be at our feet all day…as well as any other ones that might come along in the meantime."

John smiled wide at her, his own face radiating in a way she had never quite beheld before.

"If only things would have been different, I'd have had us there months ago."

Anna laid her hand flat against him, stroking intently.

"No need for 'if only's'. I'm happy the girls have been born in Downton." She smiled, offering him solid reassurance with her glowing gaze. "There's no rush. But we'll get there, I know we will."

The smile stayed on John's face. "One day, though," he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. Anna could hear Alice gurgling at them, and grinned. "I promise you."

"There's no need to tell me. I know." She smiled against the side of his face, pressing her lips to the slight prickle of his cheek before reaching further, seeking his mouth. Alice gave out a little squeal, interrupting the kiss that was growing, and Anna left the tickle of her laughter upon John's lips, causing him to respond in kind.

"And you're excited too, aren't you, my sweet?" Anna's voice rose as she took hold of their daughter's tiny hand, and saw her stare down with rapt interest, before her eyes darted back towards John. "She's more awake now than ever. It's going to be hell trying to settle her."

"We shall see about that." His eyes twinkled at Anna, and then settled on Alice, who was trying intently to stare him out. He tilted his head from side to side, watching her squirm a little, trying to catch her out with a grin on his face. Anna found it all completely adorable. "Come on, little one," he eased them both up from the chair, holding Alice high in the air, which she was delighted about. "It's time for your bed." John walked them around a few circles of the sitting room, before turning to the doorway with Alice secure in his arms.

"Ten minutes," he said to Anna, who had scooped up Eleanor into her arms and was just a few steps behind. John ushered his wife to head to the staircase before him, winking as she passed. "That's all it will take. Or even less."

"John Bates, you fancy your chances," she whispered, barely resisting the urge to pin something else on the end of that statement, especially so when she observed the smirk that had burst upon his lips. "I will hold you to that."

They trooped up the stairs slowly, each holding a precious daughter. Anna stopped on one stair to shift her arms carefully, gazing down at Eleanor's blonde head as it lolled against her shoulder. Arriving at the top, their soft steps padded in the same direction. As John entered their bedroom, Anna turned into the small box-room tucked away in the corner, pushing the door lightly open with her back.

With one deft hand, she pulled the covers of the little bed back and rested Eleanor down upon it, smiling as she saw the little girl shift and snuggle down instantly, while never waking for a second. Tucking the bedding securely around her, but leaving her enough space to move comfortably, Anna bent over her eldest daughter.

"Snug as a bug," she breathed, before leaning down a little lower to leave a kiss at her hairline. "Goodnight, my darling."

Making sure Eleanor was completely content, she went over to the window, pulling the curtains open just a little to allow a sliver of moonlight to fall into the room and across the little girl's face as she lay sleeping. Her daughter was somewhat troubled by the pitch dark, and although she was sleeping quite soundly now, Anna would feel much better herself knowing there would be some light in the room to comfort her if she were to wake in the middle of the night.

As she stood standing for a few moments, Anna heard soft sounds that carefully broke the quiet night. A muffled voice coming through the wall, rising in places ever so slightly in its pitch, enough to keep her absorbed, though she couldn't quite make out what was being said, as low as it was. Turning her head around, she smiled as she began to walk to the doorway, the smile stretching further across her lips with each step that she took, and as the hum grew louder in her ears.

Stopping just before she entered the room next door, Anna felt like she very well may have exploded with joy at the sight in front of her. There, in front of the crib that lay against the wall, near the foot of their bed, John stood with Alice cradled in his arms. He rocked the baby ever so slightly in the dusk, reciting a story down to her off by heart.

_"Oh, come with me, Connla of the Fiery Hair, ruddy as the dawn with thy tawny skin. A fairy crown awaits thee to grace thy comely face and royal form. Come, and never shall thy comeliness fade, nor thy youth, till the last awful day of judgment…"_

Though he kept his voice in a gentle hush, John was putting his all into every word, speaking the words with such conviction, bringing this enchanting character fully to life. Anna could see that Alice's head was craned upwards to her father, and she knew that her little eyes would be staring hard at him in enthralment. Anna was equally as wrapped up, and only noticed a minute or so later that Alice's wriggles and movements had stilled. John's voice lowered even further to a mere whisper, then trailed off completely as he brought the swaying of his arms to a slow stop. Going into the room, creeping carefully until she stood at his side, it didn't take much to reassure Anna that Alice was now soundly asleep in her father's delicate embrace. Seeing the beautiful sight, she simply could not take the smile from her face.

"I'm rather disappointed that I didn't get to hear the ending. Maybe you can tell me later on. I don't think _I'll _get to sleep before I know. "

John turned, smiling back at her and keeping his arms still as he continued to hold their daughter.

"I thought it would be worth a try. My mother used to do the same when I was a child and had trouble sleeping. From what I can recall, that was a story that always worked especially well."

Anna watched as he looked down lovingly at the sleeping child, feeling the tiniest pang of guilt that although overruled by her awe and love was still apparent.

"I don't know why I didn't think of that. It's quite clear, really." She sighed as she put the gentlest of touches to the baby's soft hair. "I'm ever so sorry, Alice, my love. I'll try better from now on."

John wore a slightly sorrowful but largely comforting half-smile upon his lips. "I know you've been worrying, and really, it's all for nothing. There's no need for you to try at all; you're doing everything just right. More than that." He turned again to fix his eyes upon their daughter, seeing her little eyelids flutter just perceptibly, before looking deeply at his wife once more, so much reassurance and affection held in his gaze. "She adores you, so much. She does take after me after all, doesn't she?"

His eyes twinkled in the shadow of the room, and Anna felt herself glow in their light.

Shuffling a little, John reached down to place Alice in her crib, against the soft white blankets, carefully folding the knitted comforter over her.

"Sleep well, our angel."

They both stood at its foot, John with his arm circled around Anna's shoulder, Anna with hers firm upon his side, watching; admiring the calm and quiet, the peace that their youngest child had been lulled into. She looked absolutely perfect there, her rosebud lips parted just slightly and little arms resting atop the blanket contentedly. Anna smiled, and both quite content with the scene, made to leave the room.

Suddenly, Alice's legs kicked against the crib and she began to shift and whimper. Anna and John looked at each other within a second, Anna with slightly more trepidation.

"You may get to finish the story after all," she whispered.

"She'll be fine."

John stayed standing in the spot where he was, gesturing for Anna to go forth, wearing a knowing smile on his face. With a little hesitation at first, reluctant to move from his side, Anna went to the crib, resting her hands on its sides and watching her little daughter's wriggles for a moment or two. She leant her body down to hover over the crib, swiping her hand softly upon Alice's forehead and then placing two kisses there.

On the touch, Alice stopped squirming, settling then completely.

As she walked away, Anna caught the reflection from John's expression, and felt quite satisfied.

"See? She just needed a kiss from her mummy to be content."

Anna beamed up at him as his hand slid into hers, his thumb stroking over the curve of her fingers. As they tiptoed from the room, she kept her head over her shoulder, her eyes watching her peaceful, sleeping daughter from the distance, feeling love pour through every inch of her.

Later on in the evening, she was back there, standing near enough in the very same place, preparing herself for the night. She had planned on going up after supper, but then she found that the time always flew away from her when she was in his company. For all her wishes to retire early because of the long day she had had, it was actually the case that John had gone to bed before her, though she followed in the space of a few minutes. Anna peered into the crib, smiling when she saw Alice still sleeping, hours since she had been settled, and then moved along to the little table. She took her time undressing, stretching her arms behind her to undo each little button leisurely. It was quite warm in the room so that did not bother her, but primarily she had quite another purpose for prolonging the process. As she shrugged out of her dress and stood in her slip, a smirk played upon her lips. She didn't have to face him to know that his eyes were roaming over her, the uncovered patches of her skin from the curve of her ankles to the dip of her shoulder, riveted to the light creases of the silky material as it clung to her body. Inside, she sang with delight; even now, as she was the mother of two young children, she had not lost the distinct ability to be quite racy indeed. She just portrayed it in a different way, yet everything she did still kept her husband absolutely captivated.

Doing up the tie on her nightgown as she turned towards the bed where he was lying, she caught John's gaze lingering on her form for a fragment of a second before his eyes planted themselves firmly on the book that he was holding against the covers. At his not so inconspicuous glare and the flush that had risen on his cheeks, she had to break into a silent giggle. Anna stood with her hands resting on her hips, watching John reading from the foot of the bed.

"You know, I was enjoying that story before as well. Maybe even a little more than Alice," she uttered softly, her voice lilting as she left her words hanging in the air. She reached to pick up a pair of socks from the floor, and kept her eyes upon him on rising again, her pupils pooling upon the sight of him in their bed. "I was hoping you might do the same for me…" Her voice trailed off as she saw him regard her from over the edge of the pages, the rate of her heart quickening and her breath catching when he placed the book down upon the bed and stared into her very soul, filling up all of her senses.

"Oh, and is that what I am now? The performer of the house, at beck and call?" he rasped, sounding slightly as if he were already gruff from sleep.

"In a word, yes," Anna giggled, brushing her hand along the blankets of the bed as she strode the length of it, hearing him inhale sharply as she ghosted the tips of her fingers over his thigh. "But it's been so long since you've read for me, I almost can't remember when. I've missed it so very much."

She was telling something of a little white lie; the memories she had of him taking up a book and reading to her burned vividly in her mind. Blinking at the words in low candlelight in the servants' hall on many of the evenings they'd spent sitting alone together after all the others had gone to bed years ago; draped in his lap by the fireside when they'd first got the cottage, as good as newlyweds still. Barely getting a few pages in until she'd had to take the book from his hands, almost flinging it into the fire when her desire had grown to unbearable heights, silencing him with her lips crashing upon his and her hands sinking into his hair. She was telling the truth however when she said it had been a long time. Oh, so long. A fire stirred against her stomach, and she felt just a little foolish for batting her eyelashes at him, pleading so unashamedly, but it did quite the trick.

"Very well, then." He sat up a little further against the headboard, closing the book he had been reading and placing it on the table at his bedside. "What would you care for? I'm not sure if you'd find this all that thrilling."

Anna leant over to take in the title, only discerning the words 'collected essays' in scratched gold lettering, and scrunched up her nose slightly. Really, he could have read Mrs Patmore's shopping list and it would have had quite the desired effect on her, but she preferred something a little more soothing for bedtime reading, especially after the lengthy day now behind her. She ran a finger over the little collection of titles that were lined up at his side, but immediately plucked out a couple of familiar choices, a smile drifting onto her face as she passed them into John's hands.

"Ah, I may have suspected as much," he smirked, as he inspected the well-thumbed pages.

"Are you implying that I am that predictable?"

"Not at all," he swiped his fingers reverently over the back of her hand, "It's a fine selection."

She smiled wide as he held back the covers, allowing her to climb in next to him. His warmth surrounded her, taking over her completely as she nestled against his body, curling up her legs and resting her head underneath his shoulder as he circled an arm around her. He flicked to the page he wanted, and before he started to read, smiled down at her with such a look in his eyes that almost made her disappear. Pressing a kiss that was barely felt into her hair, he then began to speak the words upon the page aloud. Anna had had an idea as to which poem he would choose, yet her heart still stuttered a little when she heard him, felt the waves vibrating against her cheek. She recalled how, the day after Eleanor had been born, he had travelled into Ripon and bought the very same volume that contained the verse he was reading now. That night, he had read it to her for the first time and she had cried hearing it, with joy, with weariness; with so much love for him, for them both.

"_May she become a flourishing hidden tree, That all her thoughts may like the linnet be, And have no business but dispensing round Their magnanimities of sound, Nor but in merriment begin a chase, Nor but in merriment a quarrel. O may she live like some green laurel, Rooted in one dear perpetual place."_

It was now, and she thought would always be, her favourite poem, holding such a special place in her mother's heart, and now it applied with as much power and meaning to both their children. Yeats was most certainly her favourite poet anyway. Not that he had always been, though she had a definite liking for his work. It was just that that liking had extended somewhat when she discovered John's fondness for him. They had spent evenings declining to read any novel in favour of verses and verses of Yeats' poetry. Anna could tell it in his voice when he read, though he never read anything half-heartedly, that he loved the words that Yeats wrote, and in turn it made her cherish them. He had said that some reminded him of his childhood home, while others he spoke with such passion that it made her shiver all over, confessing the love for her that then, so long ago, he had not spoken but conveyed as clear as day through those poetic lines. She would stand in bookshops on her afternoons off, devouring verses amongst the shelves and feel every part of her leaping to life. She would hold the copy of _Poems _close to her chest and bring it with her to bed, smiling in her sleep thinking of the words swirling in her head the night before their wedding; weeping as they haunted her on so many long nights when they were kept apart, acting as the crumbs of comfort she clung on to. They still echoed in some dark corner of her mind: _"Before us lies eternity; our souls Are love, and a continual farewell…"_

Happily, those days were far behind them now, and she revelled in the comfort this night offered, loving the feel of him against her, the steady rhythm of his heart soothing her and the tone of his voice doing quite the opposite, rousing every part of her as he read different lines from the other volume she had picked out, in a smooth, completely distracting tone. She suspected he might have chosen this particular ode to lull her peacefully to sleep, yet it was doing anything but.

"_Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love's lonely hour in deep twilight of rest, And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous feet."_

As he continued, she lifted her head and focused her gaze upon his chest, as it rose and fell lightly with the words he was uttering. With nimble fingers, she began to unfasten the top buttons of his pyjama top, sighing as she felt the sensation of skin against skin hit her and heat searing through her mind. John couldn't fail to notice her attentions, growing more undivided by the second, and took his eyes from the pages to look down at her. Feeling his gaze burning upon her, she lifted her eyelashes in the most purposelessly seductive way, biting softly on her bottom lip and laughing inwardly as he stifled a groan in his throat.

"I thought you were incredibly tired?" he managed to say, regarding her blue eyes shining towards him, stroking a hand across her shoulder. At the action, she turned even further into him where he lay.

"Well," she lingered over her words, "now I've quite woken up." Her hands dipped lower upon his chest, stretching beneath where he still held the book in his hands to undo the remaining buttons. "And I have to say, it's all your fault, Mr Bates."

John smirked as she continued her ministrations, and Anna quite lost all of her comprehension when he looked at her, bringing a large hand up to cup her face, her cheek burning against his touch. "Minx," his breath fell against her face. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Perhaps…"

She could say no more as he drew her nearer still, one hand at the back of her head guiding it effortlessly to his, the other drifting down the side of her face as his mouth took hers, kissing her with the perfect combination of tenderness and barely unrestrained passion. He paid particular attention to the swell of her lower lip, tugging on it slightly, eliciting a little mewl from her, before he swept up to take her upper lip between both of his, kissing it languidly and then softly pressed his lips to her philtrum, which made her sigh. Anna's eyes were glassy as he pulled back to look at her, and she had to swipe her tongue across her lips to moisten them, still tasting him there.

"Well, Mrs Bates, I must say that you have quite awakened me too."

Her hand trailed down his chest onto the mattress, and she chuckled uncontrollably, hearing him follow soon after.

"I won't say that I'm sorry," she issued, flashing him another look that somehow fell between innocence and pure temptress."You know, this is the first night in a few we've had the bed to ourselves again. Eleanor's been out of it for hours, and I'm quite sure Alice will stay asleep too."

John bent his head to the side, caressing the curve of her jaw to her shoulder, studying her fair skin colour a shade of pink as he did so.

"Well, as much as I adore them, I will be glad for that," he breathed. "To have you all to myself for a bit."

Anna smiled down at the sheets beneath him, lifting her head as he stroked the pad of his thumb against her chin. Leaning in, he kissed her lips once so softly, and then began to whisper to her.

"_Come from a more dream-heavy land, A more dream-heavy hour than this;" _

He paused to kiss her again, a little deeper this time.

"_And when you sigh from kiss to kiss I hear white Beauty sighing, too."_

Anna seized the book that had been left lying atop the covers and let it land with a soft thud on the floor, wary of their youngest daughter sleeping soundly at the other side of the room. The only sound that was to be heard was her soft sighing, from kiss to kiss, as they continued to fall upon her, as they sunk down into the bed that was theirs alone once more.

* * *

**A/N: Keeping with the name of this story, Alice means 'noble; of noble kin'. As she takes after her father...**

**'Scuse me for getting a little bit carried away near the end. I just have a kink for John reading to Anna, and she does too.**

**Story/poem references are as follows:**

**Connla and the Fairy Maiden; Celtic Fairy Tales, Joseph Jacobs, 1892.**

**A Prayer For My Daughter; Michael Robartes and the Dancer, W.B. Yeats, 1921.**

**Ephemera; Poems, W.B. Yeats, 1895.**

**He bids His Beloved be at Peace, and He Remembers Forgotten Beauty; The Wind Among The Reeds, W.B. Yeats, 1899.**

**(also, Mary's pregnancy is AU; I'd begun planning this a long time ago, and will be keeping hold of my headcanon here)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: There's a little bit of a departure from the fluff in this chapter - I'm sorry! But I'm not as bad as Fellowes, and if you keep reading, I hope you'll enjoy. And the fluff quota is still fairly high...**

* * *

Taking in the sizeable kitchen, John was more than a little dumbfounded at the sight before him. In all the times he'd set foot in there, which, granted, had not been all that many, he was sure he had never seen it in such a state. In the space of just an hour, in his absence, the place had been completely upturned. He could hardly make anything out through the clouds of flour that circulated in the air, getting at the back of his throat. The scene looked suspiciously like the entire contents of the pantry and cupboards had exploded all at once; there were eggshells scattered upon the floor, spoons leaving a trail of splodgy mixture across the counter. It was all such a mess, and, indirectly, of his own doing. He steeled himself just thinking of Mrs Patmore's reaction, hearing her shrieks and bellows ringing in his ears from miles away.

At the centre of the chaos, two little figures stood, one taller than the other even though they were both stood perched upon chairs to reach the worktop. The eldest held the bowl in her dainty fingers, tongue sticking out in concentration as the mixture slowly poured into the tray, while the youngest was far more taken by drawing patterns in the flour that dusted the surface, equally fascinated. Any anxiety he held melted away as he watched them; his two crafty, marvellous daughters. His heart overflowed with joy to see how much they were coming on, every second of every day, every little thing they did filled with wonder and delight. The wide smile fit perfectly on his features, betraying the slightly stern expression he was trying to portray, and nearly erupted into a laugh as the tin clattered and wobbled precariously on top of the counter.

"Be careful, girls; we mustn't make too much of a mess, it isn't our house."

"Oh, they're fine, Mr Bates. We've seen much worse before, I can assure you."

Daisy swept over from the other side of the room, balancing trays in her arms that she settled onto the table with ease before going back round to where the girls were. She took the bowl from Eleanor's hands and smiled brightly down at the little girl's searching face, stopping to quickly retie her apron before she cradled it in her arms.

"Oh Eleanor, you've done ever so well with such a heavy bowl. Now, if you keep hold of that spoon, you can make it all nice and smooth as I pour."

It was astounding, really; that this girl who was once as timid as a mouse was now a confident, fully-fledged kitchen assistant, second-in-command only to the stalwart cook. John smiled to see how much she had blossomed, and how good she was with the girls.

"If you're sure, Daisy. I wouldn't want them to cause more trouble for you, not when you have so much to do already."

There was a heavy thud, and John winced to discover that Alice had sent a half-full bag of flour spilling out over the counter. A heavy sigh escaped him, but Daisy only let out a chortle.

"They're no trouble at all, Mr Bates," she assured, scooping handfuls back into the bag and swiping a cloth over the remnants that remained. "It's lovely to have them here, they're my little helpers. I think with this one we might have a future cook on our hands." She glanced at Eleanor, still looking so intent and determined as she patted the mix smooth in the tray. "But really, it's a joy having them about. You should bring them more often, we'd all be so pleased."

John gave a warm, gracious smile to Daisy, his eyes crinkling softly as he regarded the pair of them, looking as much at home as they were in the cottage. They didn't make too much of a habit of bringing the girls to Downton Abbey. If he knew things would be relatively quiet, Anna would drop by with them for a couple of hours, which never seemed long enough, and on special occasions and every now and then Mrs Hughes would insist that they come and visit. If it had been a while, she'd complain that soon enough they'd be as tall as Alfred and she'd be too old to coddle them properly.

Whenever they were there, they were fussed half to death and spoilt something rotten. Daisy would sneak them biscuits from a freshly baked batch before they'd had their dinner; Jimmy sat them at the piano and let them run riot on the keys for what seemed like hours, a series of lightly tuneless notes flooding out, and even Miss O'Brien wouldn't roll her eyes quite as much as usual. If they were especially well-behaved, and even if they weren't as much as they could be, Mr Carson promised to take them on a tour of the house. When he was sure that the family wouldn't be disturbed, he'd clutch a little hand either side of him and lead the girls off, regaling them with all sorts of fascinating stories in his deep timbre.

They'd been due a trip lately anyway, but John couldn't have been more relieved at the timing and the fact that the house wasn't too far of a way to go. In the past week, its welcoming walls and the faces within had been his saviour, even if he was feeling guilty that he may have been relying on its services a little too much, services that were piled on top of those it was built to perform.

He sighed, shaking his head. There was even less reason for him to berate himself now, though the instinct still crept in. Anyway, they couldn't have very well used their own kitchen to bake a special, surprise cake for Anna. That would have defeated the object entirely, especially as she would have guessed what was happening on catching even the slightest whiff of ingredients in the air. Also, the girls wouldn't have been able to reach their full potential pottering about in that tiny room – or otherwise, would have wreaked twice the havoc in the preparation.

Smiling wider, John kept attentive gaze on his daughters, still absolutely amazed by all they did, their simple but unbelievable presence in the world. It seemed only days ago since they were babies, newly arrived into their lives, and they could only wonder at the possibilities of who and what they would become. Time had gone so fast, slipped through his fingers. Eleanor was now five and seven months, and Alice had turned four. Both had very distinct personalities, which were clear for all to see even as they stood here, captured in a relatively quiet moment. Keeping her eyes firm upon the full tray, inspecting its contents carefully, Eleanor showed herself to be quite the perfectionist. Everything always had to be just right for her, and the same went for everyone else around. She was so precise, poring over the recipe and measuring everything out as needed, following Daisy's instructions to the letter. She had not been too pleased when Alice had got distracted in stirring in the milk and seized the spoon, bossing her slightly bemused little sister to take notice. That was for all of a minute, when soft-heartedness struck her once more and she threw her arms around her younger sibling, cuddling her tight, before wiping away the bits of flour that had somehow landed in Alice's dark brown curls and smeared on her rosy cheeks. Eleanor did like to be another mother to Alice, and would occupy herself with fussing over her. All the while, Alice remained largely oblivious to her sister's cosseting, wrapped up in a distant daydream. Her saucer eyes were set and an expression beyond her years planted on her face, so thoughtful as she watched Daisy begin to make delicate flowers from sugar paste. She could often be found in her own little world, at once away with the fairies and then far more contemplative, and was much more interested in being artistic than exact. Her button nose screwed up and one little hand reached out, as the other continued to swirl flour around on the countertop. Daisy grinned, and placed a little blob into her palm. Alice stared at it for a while, then fashioned a rather messy looking flower made up of two petals.

"That will have to go right in the middle," Daisy said. Alice's head flew up, curls bouncing around her ears and her eyes shone expectantly towards her father. John's own eyes grew even warmer as he nodded enthusiastically towards his youngest daughter, his mirror image, his pride and joy. Alice beamed a big smile, looking thoroughly pleased with her creation. John had to watch that she didn't topple from her throne.

"Okay girls, it's all done. You've done such a fantastic job. Now we just have to put it in the oven and wait for it to bake." Two pairs of sparkling eyes followed Daisy's movements as she lifted the tin up, away, and placed it into the open door. "It'll be ready in no time at all, and then you can take it home to show your mummy."

"Do you think she'll like it, Daddy?" Eleanor's voice was high and almost breathless with excitement as she craned her head around to look at John, when the as-yet unbaked cake was closed behind the door.

"Oh, she'll love it," John answered, clasping an arm around the little girl's waist, snuggling her into his embrace as he hoisted her from the stool. "Chocolate cake is her absolute favourite."

"Mine too," Eleanor chimed, giggling at her father while she was still in the air, held against him. John placed her securely on the tiles of the floor, then reached out to his other daughter who had already put her arms out in anticipation to be lifted.

"And she's going to love it even more knowing it was made by her favourite people in the whole wide world."

He swung Alice about in his arms, making her squeal with laughter, eliciting another chuckle when he stopped and lightly pressed a finger to the tip of her nose, before settling her down next to her sister.

"Now, you be good, keep a watch and stay here with Daisy. I'm going to go home and see Mummy, but I'll be back to see how well the cake looks in a little while."

Eleanor frowned a little, feet scuffing against the floor. "Can't I go with you while Alice watches, Daddy? I want to see Mummy too." Her little lips were set into a pout, and John wondered how his little darling had grown quite so quickly.

"Listen to your daddy, Eleanor. Your mummy needs a bit of peace and quiet," Daisy piped up from the other side of the kitchen. John nodded a silent thanks in her direction as he watched his eldest daughter fold up her arms with a bit of exasperation and a lot of fondness. He unhooked his cane from one of the chairs at the table, picked up his hat and coat, kissing both of the girls on their cheeks before he headed for the doorway.

"Mr Bates."

He turned around to see Daisy wearing a pensive half-smile, twisting a dishcloth around in her hands.

"Give Anna our love. We're all thinking of her."

His gaze turned instantly sorrowful, but he managed to smile back, nodding towards her again.

"Thank you, Daisy. I will. And thank you again for looking after the girls. We both appreciate it very much."

Daisy simply smiled a little bashfully, swatting the air lightly with the towel. John headed from the doorway of the kitchen out into the hallway, sighing with each hurried step he took, anxious not to be held up and spend a minute longer than he need away from his wife.

Stepping from the threshold of the grand house, he was immediately greeted by a fresh, pleasant breeze sweeping against him and the hazy sun warming his face as it fought to shine from behind the threaded clouds. Making his way steadily down the first of several paths that wound back to the little enclave of cottages standing on the edge of Downton's estate, John couldn't fail to notice the pink and white blossoms fluttering upon the green branches, with a few tender buds being shaken to the ground. Spring had arrived only days ago, and today was a day that made the heart sing. A day where the light seemed to fall brighter upon every corner and crevice, making all small things magnified and magnificent, and when everything around burst brilliantly to life.

On days like this, not even those with the cloudiest outlooks could doubt that this world was quite a wonderful place to be. Yet, John acknowledged, it remained perennially glorious for him now, sunshine staying with him throughout the harshest, darkest depths of winter. His rays of light were everlasting, there to wake him with excitable leaps and near-suffocating embraces each morning and to cleanse him with soothing caresses and heavenly kisses every evening. They were what warmed him, sustained him, gave to him eternal joy. Seasons were entered and ushered out, years had passed, and all of them had been filled with such perfect happiness, more than he ever imagined. Every ounce he felt was all thanks to those two gorgeous little girls, who made his world shine brighter with each hour of each day, and his beautiful, amazing, absolutely remarkable wife, who he loved and cherished with everything he had, still astounded that she should have chosen to share her life with him, and to bring new life into the world with him. It was a life that only years ago he thought he would never know, and at times he could hardly believe that he did now.

While he lived so utterly and completely content every waking minute, Anna did the very same beside him. He was the first to notice when she was troubled in any way, through more unfortunate past experience than he wished was true, and some time ago her smiles had begun to falter and her eyes look a little distant each time he gazed into them. Without her having to say the words, John knew what the matter was. Alice had not long had her second birthday, and Anna expressed her wish for another child, confessing that she was a little surprised she had not fallen again sooner. While he shared that sentiment, John was quite happy with things as they stood. He considered himself the most blessed man on the earth to have their daughters, thinking for so long that he would never be a father. More than anything else, they were all blessed to have Anna; for as long as she was there by his side it was quite impossible for him to ask for anything more, the most precious thing already having been granted to him so many years previous. Yet the hint of sadness he glimpsed every time he looked at her made him ache so intensely, with every fibre of his being. He knew that Anna longed for another baby, and had done so for some while. She herself was one of three, and thought it was a very good number of children to make up a family. It was beyond him to even think of refusing; he would do anything she desired, without hesitating for a heartbeat. It was only all that she deserved, for her love and unwavering faith and loyalty to be returned to her after everything he had made her endure for all the time she had waited to be with him. Her happiness was his main priority in life, and he would strive to do all that was possible to ensure she savoured it in abundance.

Weeks and months went by without sign, and as time turned longer, hope began to fade too. They didn't stop trying, increasing their efforts even more than was usual, making the most of every spare moment they could grasp in the day. Yet all seemed fruitless as they came to nothing. Each time Anna's cycle arrived once more, he could see the embers burn out within her and his own heart hung heavy with sadness, as he too had become enthusiastic about the prospect of another child in the house, in their lives. He tried to push the thought from his mind, keep the optimism that Anna had taught him to believe in all these years, but it remained echoing: perhaps it simply was not meant to be. Lying with her in his arms in the dark that sheltered them both, he held her closer, whispered assurances that he wasn't completely sure were true and declarations of love that could never be denied. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against his shoulder, her cheek pressed firm to his neck. He sensed the wetness upon his skin before he heard her quiet sobs, and all he could do was hold her and silently curse himself for letting her suffer yet again.

For months he walked under a cloud, until one afternoon when he arrived home, being dismissed by his Lordship after a quiet morning. He was nearly knocked from his feet as he got through the door by his wife who had ran out into the hall as soon as she heard the sound, a bright smile upon her face and the light he had missed the true sight of for so long shining in her eyes. His smile in reply to her was at first reticent; surely, it couldn't be true. She had been a little out of sorts recently, and he had dared to hope, but they had both come to realise that hope was so very fragile. The words that flew from her in a burst as she wrapped her arms around his neck made him sing with joy. That morning she had been to see Doctor Clarkson, and he had confirmed it: that she was pregnant. In a second, the world grew larger and simultaneously shrunk to fit inside their little hallway, holding only the both of them. With elation and ardour and tenderness, he met her lips with his, and the tears that spilled onto him were ones of pure happiness, mingling with his own that had started to fall against her.

By all accounts, it was an ideal pregnancy. Anna sailed through it with absolute ease, it being the best one out of the three she had experienced. It was a relief for everything to have gone so smoothly, considering that Anna was now regarded as an older mother. The girls were both old enough to understand what was happening, that they would soon have a brother or sister that they could help take care of and play with. John adored to see them each evening, huddled either side of Anna on the settee at the fireplace, eyes wide and sparkling as they watched intently, as Anna talked to them softly and patted her growing belly. She was more radiant than he had ever seen her, and grew more breathtaking every day. He was completely entranced by her, as she sat with their daughters, as she lay next to him in their bed, bathed in moonlight. Lost in eternal dreams of her, he started when she took his hand in hers gently and guided it to land upon the swell of her stomach. No sooner had the tips of his fingers braced the fabric of her nightgown was there a swift thump against them. He turned his head to catch sight of Anna's beaming smile and mirrored it upon his lips, a warmth rushing over him. A miracle, which he was in the midst of. Nothing could have made him happier.

"I love you," he whispered. "The both of you."

Her smile said all that he needed to know.

It was a week ago when he came home a little later than usual, when the now-shortening night had been long past entering. The rooms downstairs were in darkness and everything was silent, which was unusual but not unexplainable; perhaps Anna, being weary, had retired to bed early. Hanging his coat on the hook, he placed a foot softly upon the staircase, and not a moment later heard his name call out in a wavering cry. His stomach sunk to the floor instantly, and he rushed up the stairs at a speed he hadn't known he was still capable of. The sight was one which would be burned into him for the rest of his days.

Anna, slumped on the tiles of the bathroom, white knuckles clutching to the edge of the bath, her legs splayed awkwardly as though she had been left paralysed in that position. He could see that there was blood coming from her, trickling from her thighs onto the floor. The bolt of pain shooting through his leg became nothing as he crouched down to her, taking her face into his hands. It took her a few seconds to look at him, her breath hitching. When she was fully aware of his presence beside her, she grasped one of her hands to his forearm, and John could feel it trembling wildly against his suit jacket.

"It's going to be fine. Believe me. Everything will be fine."

He caressed her shaking cheek in his palm, tilting her head gently to look into her face. Catching glimpse of her eyes, locking them with his, he nodded repeatedly. He saw her swallow hard, her gaze not leaving him, and then slowly she began to reciprocate his action, falling into a rhythm that he fervently hoped was doing something to reassure her.

John repeated his words like a mantra as he rushed over to Downton Abbey with Eleanor and Alice held tight in his hands, as he travelled back to the cottage in the car that Lord Grantham all but bundled him into to let him take Anna to the hospital, everything that went by a blur as his mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, filled only with thoughts of his wife and their unborn child. _Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine._ _Please, God, let it be fine, don't let anything happen to them. Please, let her be safe. I don't know what I'd do, my God…_His desperate pleas were covered by the comforting look he kept pinned to his face, clasping Anna's hand as she clambered on wobbling legs into the compartment. He kept a careful watch upon her face, craned away from him as if she were too ashamed to look, staring instead unobserving out of the window. He saw even then that the colour was draining fast from her cheeks, and his chest tightened. For a moment, his gaze drifted down to her knees, barely perched upon the seat, set apart a little. A dark red stain soaked deeper onto the leather underneath her. A sickening cold seared through him, and his eyes settled once more upon her face, his hand held fast with hers.

He did not let go until the very last second he had to, as she was led away in a bed down a pale corridor. The cloying scent of medical supplies enveloped, sticking to him and sending him deliriously dizzy. Doctor Clarkson had told him that there would have to be an immediate delivery, even though Anna was not due for another six weeks. The baby was already in danger, having turned into a difficult position. Anna had lost a fair amount of blood. They would do all that was possible to be done…the rest of his words became empty, faded into the distance as blood thundered against John's ears.

He tried his hardest to breathe, to quell the sheer panic that had filled him from head to toe. He needed to be strong, but in all his life, he had never been as frightened. Not when he was being threatened relentlessly by the enemy in the thick of war, not when a damning sentence was weighed upon him in that cold courtroom. All that he had been through, the very worst that could be placed on a man, was made bearable knowing that she was there, with him in spirit and waiting to be with him in body, with all of her heart and soul offered so openly to him. The darkness that had been ready to claim him for years dissolved against her light. His love, his strength, his entire world. To think that he may lose her now, after all they had struggled so long to overcome, with all that they now had…he could not truly comprehend even the thought, but as much as he could made him break. She had always been there with him, long before he had come to know her in life. If she were to leave him alone now, he had no doubt: it would be the end of him. Silently, with tears beginning to stream, he prayed to a God that he did not believe in, to save his life.

Taking a deep breath, John shut the door of the cottage behind him, feeling his heart pound as he ascended the stairs. A queer, yet all too familiar mix of fear and joyful anticipation took a firmer hold of him with each step. Nothing could have gone wrong in the short while he had been away, but he would not be totally assured until he laid eyes on her once more.

He breathed easier as he entered the bedroom and saw her, sitting up against the pillows, her golden waves like a halo around her head. The soft breeze lifted the curtains up lightly from the window and the afternoon sunlight fell upon the bedsheets, then her face. She was still pale but had regained most of her natural flush, and the rays that drifted onto her coloured her quite wonderfully. _Thank God_, he thought, not for the first time in his life, _thank God for her_.

He moved without knowing, his feet bound to walk until he was at her side once more. Lowering himself onto the bed beside her, he picked up her hand, closing his eyes in reverence as he left a warm kiss upon the soft skin. Opening them again slowly, he revelled in the look she gave him, her blue irises glowing and the corners of her lips curling softly. He kept his fingers laced with hers as he rested their hands on the bed, wanting and needing to make up for every second that she had had to be without his touch.

"How are you? Are you comfortable? Do you need me to get anything?"

Anna smiled at his questioning, shaking her head a little.

"I'm fine," she replied softly, squeezing the hand that held hers. "A little sore, still, but quite well." He noticed her rub the covers that lay pooled above her stomach. "I'm just so happy to be back here, even if I have slept most of the day. I think I would have gone mad if I'd had to stare at those peeling walls a second longer."

"That reminds me, this could do with a lick of paint. As could all of the rooms." John glanced upwards at the ceiling with thoughtful eyes, his gaze directed back to his wife as he heard her chuckle lightly. "But of course I have bigger priorities at present." He smiled and kissed her hand again, feeling her warmth flood through his veins. "Daisy's looking after the girls, and she said she'd be happy to do so for a couple of hours more, at least, so you can get some more rest, undisturbed."

"Oh, it feels like so long since I've seen them," Anna sighed. "I've missed them so much."

"And they you." The smirk grew on his face as he recalled their daughters dancing about excitedly in the kitchen of Downton before he had left. "I suppose I shouldn't say, but they've been baking a cake for you. I said you wouldn't be able to eat it straight away, but they didn't seem to mind. It's meant to be a surprise."

He looked slightly sheepish as Anna frowned in mock exasperation, before breaking into a wide smile, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles.

"And I shall be surprised."

The grin he gave out made the corners of his eyes crinkle, staying there while he rose from the bed, reluctantly letting his hand fall from hers so he could walk the very short distance to peek into the crib at its side, padded with soft white blankets. His eyes filled as he took in the sight, and he brought up a finger to swipe away the tears before she could notice them there.

"Oh John, she's so tiny," Anna's soft voice fell at his back. "I'm almost afraid to pick her up, in case she might break."

John smiled at her fearful words and the baby that lay sleeping, surrounded by covers and a stuffed bear that seemed almost bigger than her standing guard at her head. She was very small, but perfectly formed and flawless to his eyes, seeming quite content as she took tiny but stable breaths in and out. He touched a couple of fingers delicately to the blanket she lay on, just to the left of her head, and watched happily as she moved round ever so slightly, following his movements in her sleep. There was certainly nothing wrong with her reflexes, or anything else, it seemed.

"What did Doctor Clarkson say about her? She must be doing well to be allowed here."

"He said that as long as she feeds well and regularly, there should be no reason that she shouldn't thrive as she would have done if she had been born later. She's put on a few ounces already, so he said, but I'm not sure I can see it." Her face was clouded with worry as he took it in again. "She's just so early, and so small. I can't help but think it will take a long time."

"Probably not as long as we think," he stated, doing his utmost to sound certain, wanting so much to allay all of his wife's troubles. "She has a lot of strength, already. We know where she gets that from." He smiled knowingly at Anna, always a pillar of strength to him, and was relieved to find her smiling back. "And what about you? Did he say that everything was alright?"

"Yes, I'm on the mend, so you can stop fussing quite so much." She waved her finger at him and then chuckled melodiously. The hunch in his shoulders relaxed to see the ease in her expression. He drunk every bit of her in, carefully committed every hair and beat and breath to his memory, so thankful that she was here and everything had been fine. "Though I shouldn't really complain about it, and I don't. I'm told I need to rest for at least a week or so more, but it's so strange to just be lying here, doing next to nothing. It feels awfully wrong, and very lazy of me." The twinkle that was dancing in her eyes was so irresistible to him.

"Nonsense. You should make the most of it," he chortled at her, settling back down onto the bed and resting his hand upon her thigh over the sheets. "I've spoken to his Lordship and he has agreed to relieve me of my duties for a while, with almost full pay."

Anna took in a sharp breath. "Oh John, you mustn't. There's no need, really."

"There is every need," he affirmed firmly, searching deep in her eyes. "You, along with the girls, are the most important, precious thing in my life, and the only duty that matters to me is that you are cared for absolutely." He fought to keep the shake from sounding in his voice, and shuddered a little when her hand gently laid on top of his. "I don't care about money, or anything else. I care about you." His simple words from so long ago rung truer than ever. "And I intend to be right here, seeing to your every waking want or need, now and always."

Anna's fingers fumbled against his upon the bedsheets, shaking visibly. He dropped his head, caressing her hand attentively, lifting his eyes from the porcelain smoothness of her skin to glimpse her face once more. A lone tear was making its way from her lashes down across her cheek, and she sniffed loudly, shaking her head to the side before she collected enough courage to look at him fully again.

"John," she started, her voice trembling. He had never heard his name uttered with such complete love, and such heartbreaking sorrow. "I'm so sorry. All of this, it was all my fault. I've been so very selfish." The tears started to cascade freely against her face now, the tips of her nose and her ears burning bright red. "When I think of what I put you through, when it was not needed…I just can't believe it. I'm so very sorry. Please forgive me."

The last three words came out as barely a whisper, and he was sure he felt his heart splinter in his chest upon receiving them. His unbelievable, beautiful Anna. As if she should ever have to be sorry to him. Without hesitation, he brought a tender hand up to her face, letting his fingers gently wipe away her hot tears.

"I would never need to forgive you for anything, my love, because you could never be at fault for anything. Not for as long as I am living."

He continued to issue tender caresses, getting rid of most of the moisture upon her face. He leaned into her to allow his lips to remove the remaining traces, tasting salt upon the very tip of his tongue. John could feel Anna inhaling upon the contact, and she moved her head with a slight jerk. Then, his lips were upon hers, moving gently and softly, absorbing her sadness in an achingly sweet kiss.

"And look what we have now," he breathed against her ear. "Another beautiful daughter. She was worth it all. I can't thank you enough, my darling." His heart lifted to feel her smiling against him, the softness of her lips kissing his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Pulling back from one another just a little, they both turned to face the crib where their new baby was kept safe and protected.

"Do you still want to give her the name? I will understand completely if not, if it seems strange to you all things considered."

He had pondered the matter since she had been born so unexpectedly suddenly, but was only getting the chance to voice it now. Not that long ago it seemed, they had discussed names once more, always liking to come to agreement. Anna had said that she would like to give the baby an Irish name, as a nod to his heritage, if he didn't mind. He hadn't at all; in fact, he had been very heartened by it, by her thoughtfulness. She admitted that she didn't know very many, and he began to list ones that he thought likely to meet her approval, leaving out those that only reminded him of unfortunate people and bad memories of his past.

When it came to girls names, there was one that remained stuck in his head, shining above all others. It wasn't accompanied by completely happy memories, but that was of nobody's fault. It was the name that belonged to his only sister, the only daughter of his parents who had been known to them for such a short time, as she had died just hours after being born. He often thought of her, how she would have been. He had wanted a little sister more than anything else, and knew his mother had longed to have been blessed with a daughter to dote on. It was a tragedy that she carried in her heart for the rest of her life, though she loved her boys so very much, hiding the pain and taking it to her grave. As he had recounted the story, for the first time to anyone he was a little surprised to discover, Anna had wept silently. It was a beautiful name, she said, and if they were to have another daughter she would be honoured to grace her with it. It would stand as an honour to her departed grandmother, who would have cherished her so very much.

John kept his eyes upon Anna's face in contemplation and anxiety. A warm smile washed over it.

"I think it should be her name," she said, resolutely. "She is getting stronger, and I don't believe in bad signs, not that it could be one. She already has a guardian angel watching over her, and now she will have another."

He could feel his smile burst as she turned to him, her eyes radiating.

"Besides," she went on, "I can't see her being anything else."

She really was the most amazing woman he had ever known.

"Very well, then," John replied, the delight clear in his voice as he spoke. "Aoife, it is."

As if on cue, a little cry pierced the air.

Not long afterwards, a soft knock landed upon the door, Ivy smiling as she stood on the doorstep, bringing Eleanor and Alice back from Downton. John brought them upstairs, carrying Alice in his arms and letting Eleanor charge in front. Her little hand reached valiantly to grasp the door handle of the bedroom, and both girls let out delighted squeals as they saw Anna, almost deafening to his ears. He bid them be careful, but couldn't refrain from grinning wide to see the girls scrambling up onto the bed, showering their mother in cuddles and kisses. In return, Anna scooped them into her embrace, laughing and smiling, her eyes lighting up and her hands carefully taking the little bunch of purple flowers that Alice clutched and shyly offered. Stroking the petals, Anna admired them, exclaiming how beautiful they were and what a clever daughter she had to know exactly which ones were her favourites, bringing forth a blush and happy giggle from Alice.

Standing at the foot of the bed with a daft smile on his face, John was sure he had never seen a better sight in his life. He would hold it in his head and his heart forever, he was already sure of that much. His two young daughters, so vibrant and growing so fantastically. At the heart of the picture, his stunningly beautiful wife, glowing with pride and unconditional love as she gazed down at their newest addition, little Aoife, as pretty as her namesake had been and already so strong. Her presence had made the bonds between them even stronger, a living testament to prove that they could overcome any battle placed in their path, and she was made from the same stout stuff. A house full of girls. He laughed to himself; a lot to deal with, and with many trials ahead. But he was more than happy to face them, wouldn't change it for the world. In fact, it was all he ever wanted. Anna looked up at him, gracing him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen her wear. Their family was now complete and his life was too. Indeed, the world could not have been a more wonderful place.

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**A/N: I found various meanings of Aoife - the one I was going for was the meaning of the English form, Eva: 'life'. But it also means 'pleasure'; 'radiant'; 'beauty/beautiful'; 'joyful' - and I think all of these would be applicable to a daughter of Anna and John. (also, in Irish legend, Aoife was a 'warrior princess', apparently, which seems very apt...!) **

**I'm planning one more chapter, but whether there will be another baby, who can say...? **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here we are, the last instalment of Bates Family fluff! Big thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, favourited, offered comments. All very much appreciated.**

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Anna awoke gradually and completely naturally that morning, her sleepy-eyed gaze facing the window that opened up from the other side of the room. Though it was a gentle accompaniment to her waking, she instinctively turned her head from the burgeoning daylight, burrowing against the soft pillow she was laying on. She pulled the covers higher and tighter around her body, building a cocoon for herself amongst the sheets, and let out a prolonged and contented sigh. Even as yet when her senses weren't fully alert, she was pleasantly surprised at the quality of sleep she had got. The children had slept very well too; she recalled only getting up to see to them at a couple of intervals which didn't last as long as they could have done, and she had all but glided back to bed afterwards, falling once more into a deep slumber. She had prepared herself for something of a restless night, even though she had been incredibly tired. Evidently, that had not been the case; she blinked in the time upon John's pocket watch resting at the bedside, and saw that it had long gone eight. She couldn't recall the last time she had been allowed to remain in bed at such a late hour in the morning. She let out another happy purr in response as she turned to lie on her stomach.

Indeed, it was very surprising, that she should feel so settled so quickly, enough that she almost had no qualms about letting herself be a little lazy. Really, it should have been one of the strangest things ever, if only a passing sensation. With the flurries of excitement that had run around her in the weeks and days leading up to the move, there had been a considerable amount of anxiety rooted firm in her gut too that only grew and threatened to run out of control as the prospect fast approached. She was rather confused and disheartened at feeling such negative emotions; it had been such a persisting dream of hers, of both of them, that perhaps she had taken it for granted that she'd feel nothing but joy upon it coming finally true.

The apprehension had all but overwhelmed her as she had stood upon the station platform, as the train pulled away and Downton rolled ever further into the distance. For a terrifying moment, she had believed she would fling herself from the carriage, regardless to whether the vehicle was at a stop or not. The flash of fear was clearly visible in her eyes, though she was trying her utmost to conceal it from appearing, and within a second she felt her husband's soothing hand circling hers on the small space of seat next to them, holding her close, keeping her dread far at bay with one touch. It remained laced there for the remainder of the journey, taking up its residence again as the key entered the lock and they walked hand-in-hand through the threshold of the door, gazing up at the flights of stairs disappearing into the ceiling. Anna had sucked in a breath in astonishment, tightening her grasp upon him. As she exhaled, a rush of calm like she had never experienced filled her from head to toe. At once, she felt an incredible, instant sense of belonging. It was as if she had known this place from another life, several of them in fact, and she was now coming home again. Everything about it breathed peace, each room she'd set foot in having a distinctive but completely tranquil atmosphere. Lying there, she could smell the air that was tinged with the salt of the sea seeping through, so fresh. It was surprisingly silent within the walls, the surrounding sound having been muffled so much that she was able to hear the waves lapping the distant shore gently.

She stretched out her limbs languidly, arching her back before leaning up slightly, sinking her elbows against the mattress. Her head tilted to the side, strands of her hair tumbling onto her face from her shoulders as she ran her hands reverently over the rumpled sheets that still bore the imprint of his body. Lowering herself down again over the space, a cheeky smile crept over her lips and she sighed as she snuggled there, his warmth that remained present wrapping her in an embrace. The scent of him clung to the fabric and Anna happily let it invade her, feeling it send her a little delightfully light-headed.

He had stuck to the vow he had made the previous evening; that he would rise early and set to the arduous task of sorting through everything, their own gathered belongings as well as the assorted remnants that had been left behind by the previous tenants. Anna knew it had to be done, sooner rather than later, but it was their first full day there and the flighty, playful part of her was happy to let domestic worries slide for the time being, at least while the season was quiet and they had no pressing need to be up and running. She was no sloth, but she didn't mind living in a bit of a mess for a little while; in fact, she considered it rather homely. So before they had fallen soundly asleep in each other's arms, she made a point of insisting to her husband that there really was no need to make such efforts straightaway. Yet she knew only too well that John was a conscientious man. Shifting onto her back, seeing the door that was open just a crack, she felt a little guilty for her purposeful indolence and for luxuriating in it quite so much while John was up and about at work already. She'd never been one to shirk, even at leisure, and she felt it even more keenly when it was just the two of them who had to take care of matters alone. Then she let it pass, swiping a hand over her face and giggling to herself.

_Silly man, he never listens. But I do love him so very much, all the same. _Anna smiled wide to herself as she considered how much she did absolutely adore her husband, her love growing further across the years. She couldn't help but let her thoughts drift, thinking of when he would be lying beside her here once more, their bodies curled and pressed against each other as the rest of the world melted away entirely.

Staring at the ceiling without really looking, she let the soft strains of the birdsong from outside the window float about her in the room, closing her eyes for a few moments. She was almost on the verge of being lulled back into sleep, falling into delicious dreams that at this moment in time she rather wished were real, until she heard sounds coming closer. The noise of chatter, getting increasingly louder and more frantic, and little shuffling footsteps making their way nearer. _Well, it couldn't have lasted much longer, I suppose_. Anna smirked as she heaved herself from the bed, emerging from the comforting cocoon of the sheets, feeling the drop of the temperature sharply upon her bare shoulders. Skipping across the floor, she shrugged into her robe and pushed open the door slowly to find three little girls mere inches away in the corridor, turning their heads to her and looking up with beseeching eyes. A new warmth flooded over Anna on seeing her daughters gathered there before her, the mother's affection smiling in her eyes.

"What's all this fuss about?" she exclaimed, keeping her voice in a low hush, still smiling at the commotion they were making, which had now come to something of a cease.

Eleanor pouted a little. "Alice has been in my bed all night, and she wouldn't leave even this morning."

Standing at her sister's side, looking ever so bashful, Alice scuffed her feet against the floor. It was a habit she had acquired from her father whenever the two were feeling overcome with self-consciousness. Anna noticed that the little girl's eyes were very heavy, full of precious sleep that she hadn't had enough of. She crouched down towards where Alice stood, in a nightgown that still looked miles too big for her.

"You should have come in to see me and daddy if you couldn't sleep."

Her large, dark eyes flickered up at her mother.

"I wanted to, but I didn't know the way," she said in a small, remorseful voice, and Anna could have cried when she saw how sad her daughter looked. Without haste, she scooped her into a cuddle.

"Oh, my angel," Anna cried, smoothing down Alice's mussed hair, keeping an arm secure about her. "You can stay with us in our bed, just for tonight."

The little girl looked down at the floor, nodding her head silently in assent. Anna leaned forward, kissing the warm rosy cheek softly.

"I promise you though, you will get used to everything here very soon. You won't want to leave your own bed soon enough."

Her words were rewarded by Alice with a slow, shy smile, and she beamed back at her, patting her arm soothingly.

"Beach! Beach!"

Anna's gaze flew up on the screech coming from her youngest daughter, and she stood up again to meet her face, her smile widening as she took in the pair of sparkling blue eyes. Aoife was grinning happily, settled in the arms of her eldest sister, waving her arms about wildly before jabbing a little finger off in the direction that she believed the beach to be in, but instead just pointed to a wall.

"Yes, sweet pea, we're going to go to the beach and build lots of sandcastles."

She took one of Aoife's hands and nearly burst into laughter when she saw her jiggle around with so much excitement. Their youngest little girl was quite the bundle of joy, forever smiling and bringing them endless fun. "But it'll be a little later on, your daddy and I have a few things to see to at first." This announcement didn't deter Aoife in the slightest, still glowing and clapping her tiny hands furiously. Anna simply had to let out a laugh, swiping her fingers lightly across her daughter's back.

"And you all have to get dressed first, too," she chimed. "Whatever would people think; three little girls parading on the beach in their nightclothes." Anna giggled, adjusting Eleanor's gown that had fallen from her shoulder while Aoife had been tugging at the material. "Eleanor, will you take your sisters and start to get them ready? I'll be along soon, I just have to find your father."

"Pa's in the other room, we passed him on the way," Eleanor announced confidently. "He has the baby with him."

A warm smile set itself firm on Anna's face as the girls set off back down the landing, Alice toddling over her trailing nightgown to keep up with her big sister's strides. She turned in the opposite direction, making her way to where she would find John, tiptoeing carefully over the patch of floorboard that they'd discovered was rather creaky. A great burst of light was emanating from the room that was her intended destination, and she was already grinning wide before she peeked into the room to see his broad figure standing at the window with the baby in his arms.

Anna's heart fluttered to behold the sight; she felt it veer out of control within her chest as he remained oblivious, facing the window's view and pointing out, talking softly to the infant. She was sure it had melted completely the longer she looked. Now she knew what it must have felt like precisely for him to watch her with their daughters, and why he loved to watch them together so much. She was now experiencing the very same thing, soaring high upon a cloud, to see him holding their son. Of course, she was overjoyed to view him acting so tenderly with any of their children, but this really was quite a picture. Anna stayed watching from the doorway with tears of happiness prickling her eyes as John bounced the little boy about gently in his hands, until she found that she could hold back no longer, literally aching to be part of the scene.

"Hello, my darling," she cooed softly, walking over to them, her eyes twinkling with absolute joy. She reached up to smooth her fingertips over the baby's wispy hair and he gurgled as she sniffed, taking in his wonderful scent.

John looked down at her lovingly, craning himself down so she could have better access to the little boy.

"Hello," he said in a deep but simultaneously soft burr, a chuckle resting at the back of his throat. "I know you meant this little one, but I thought I'd chance my arm." He flashed a smile that lit up all of his features, his eyes in particular dancing towards her.

"I meant both of you," Anna giggled, taking her hand from the baby to reach and stroke against the back of John's neck. She heard him hum in delight as her fingers worked their way upwards, caressing the hair and sensitive skin at the nape, and in seconds he had lowered himself to her further, softly capturing her lips with a wondrous, enveloping kiss that set tingles all over her instantly.

"That was because I could only kiss you on the forehead this morning."

"Remind me to sleep in more often," she smiled, trailing her hand down his chest, letting out a little sigh when he left another feather kiss on the top of her head. "I would have seen to him, you know. I'm really not that lazy."

John let out a chortle, resting one hand at the small of her back. "I know, but he was awake when I got up. He didn't seem to want feeding or to play with anything, so I thought we'd both have a little look out together."

Anna lifted her head, smiling as she saw the baby pushing his little body forward in his father's arms, pointing out to the horizon.

"He's a little explorer."

John slipped his free arm around her waist, and she settled closer against his side as they both joined their son in fascination and looked out at the view, at the beach and harbour, and a little way out, the sea, stretching out beyond them further than it was almost possible to comprehend.

"I know I should be working, but it's quite easy to get distracted with this in front of you." He exhaled a long breath, Anna feeling his voice vibrate at his side underneath her fingertips. He clasped her above her hip a little tighter. "It's quite something, isn't it?"

"It is. So pretty," she said, her words thick with emotion and reminiscence.

She had only been to Whitby a couple of times before, her aunt taking her and her brother and sister when they were young for a few days in the summer, but it had remained one of her favourite places, and looking out she was quite sure that now it was even nicer than how she had remembered it all those years ago. She loved the seaside, all the attractions and whole life that came with it, and it was a longing that one day she would return, certainly for a holiday if it was to be granted; if she was lucky enough, for a new life with her family, the family she had dreamed of having only since finding her soulmate in Mr Bates.

Their little hotel, which really wasn't that little when she considered it, purchased but a couple of months previous, stood right in the centre of the town, halfway between her past and the present that was already proving to be quite glorious as it unfolded about them. Letting her childhood memories flood back to her, she looked to the future that lay ahead as the waves rushed against the shore. Uncharted territory and perhaps in parts a little daunting, but it would all be taken in their stride and she knew more than anything that their days there would be the happiest they had ever known. Already, she was not quite sure how they would be more content than they were in this very moment, standing in a close huddle together with their youngest child, who delighted in cooing and occasionally letting out a happy little cry. Her smile widened and her eyes softened when she turned her head a little to her side to regard them beside her, the beautiful pair; father and son.

The year that had passed by had been quite the eventful one, with one thing and another. Life for them had gone along happily; their daughters thriving around Anna as she raised them in her days spent within the cottage and John fussing over them a great deal when he returned home of an evening from Downton Abbey, where he continued to serve Lord Grantham as his valet. There were many ups as they thrilled to see the girls growing, some downs at times too, but all was quite wonderful to Anna as they lived the life they had both wanted with much to be proud of and thankful for.

That life did come to something of a standstill when Anna discovered that she was pregnant again. It had been quite a shock to her, though she was beyond happy to be blessed with another child. It was just that after all the trouble they had gone through in conceiving Aoife, she hadn't expected for it to happen again and certainly not as easy as it was this time around. Coming home from the doctors she felt a curious feeling set inside her, coursing with vigour throughout her body as she entered the cottage. She realised she wasn't quite sure how John would take the news, being certain as she had been that their family was complete. Settled in their bed as she told him, her hand resting against his arm, she watched carefully as his eyes lit with joy, and breathed a sigh of relief. However, in the moments and the days that followed, she saw the quiet fear that was held there too coming slowly to fruition.

As the months went by, John became thoroughly possessed by paralysing anxiety and worry. From the very moment she had uttered the words of the pregnancy, his alert systems had been switched on, but his paranoia had grown to quite unbelievable levels as each stage progressed. He would not leave her alone for a second in the cottage, took him hours to be able to depart in the mornings as she reassured him what seemed like a thousand times that she was absolutely fine. She couldn't do so much as walk across a room without him rushing to her side, clinging on protectively to her arm. He treated her as if she were made of china, a fragile doll that would shatter at any given moment. She remembered well that feeling from the early days of what perhaps was not even considered their proper courtship, and it was not one that she relished. It really should have been completely infuriating to her, driving her to her very wits end and back again, but she knew exactly why he was so afraid. Everything he ever did was done out of pure love and concern for her. Sometimes, seeing the look in his eyes when he gazed into her face was enough to break her heart for him. She had been on the verge of bursting into tears several times with the sheer emotion she beheld there.

Anna couldn't blame him one bit; in truth, she was just as scared, perhaps more so given that she chose not to give voice to her fears to the one person in the world she had always unburdened herself to, with the purpose of preserving his sanity. Despite all the time she spent silently reassuring herself, it was her worst nightmare that she would end up in that same horrible situation again, the scene that she had tried hard to blank from her mind but was etched too firmly to ever be erased. She was so frightened, so ashamed already to think that she may put him through even worse pain than the time before. Her fearful thoughts loomed larger, threatening to consume her and as the time drew nearer, she dreaded its approach with all her heart.

In the end, they had both fretted incessantly for nothing at all. Her due date came and passed without the slightest sign and she had ended up being overdue by more than a week. They both joked that it could have been months, that the baby was far too comfortable to ever make an appearance. When he did arrive he was the picture of health, very bonny by all accounts, and relief and bliss overwhelmed them. Both had assumed that there would be another girl to add to their clan, it seeming like such a likely conclusion that they almost hadn't thought about the other option. But now they had a son. Anna could sense immediately that John carried himself a little differently, feeling an increased amount of responsibility to set an example that somehow, after all of these years, he still felt he could not quite measure up to. Yet again, he worried over nothing; from the moment their son was in his arms and she saw them together, Anna knew that their little boy would idolise John forever, and she couldn't have asked for anything more.

The decision to make the move from Downton was one they had been pondering for some time, ever since Aoife had made her arrival earlier than expected. John admitted that he was finding it harder to bear being away from Anna and the girls for most of his days, and when they found Anna was pregnant, it made sense to push things along. A month or so after they discovered the news John began to get their financial affairs in order, Anna made as many preparations at home as she could and they would spend their evenings discussing possible locations. Anna was jittery with excitement as they went over their plans, sensing them getting ever nearer in a wonderful haze. It was the right time to go, she knew. She wanted the children to still be young enough when they went so they could all get the most out of it. To think, that the dreams dreamed in such a distant past, spoken with the highest of hopes but then in truth with an uncertain faith, were now on the edge of reality; it was quite unbelievable.

Still, there was no denying that it would be a wrench for them to leave the place where so much of their lives had been spent, where their life together had been built and their love came to light, growing steadily around them. Despite all that he said, Anna was sure that John still enjoyed working at the great house, the job meaning much more than restored pride and reputation. From those shaky beginnings, he was now deeply valued by almost everyone upstairs and downstairs, and it had often been remarked by several different people that they didn't know how things would run without him. John was far too modest to attest to such statements, but Anna had no doubts whatsoever in their truth.

The relationship between John and Lord Grantham was perhaps the factor that would make their leaving most difficult. It had become stronger over the years, ever since John had been released from his sentence and Lord Grantham was at a joy beyond words to have his comrade and great confidante at his side once more. The distance that was still apparent between the two men, no matter how they chose to try to overlook it, was narrowed considerably when John became a father, and they could confidently say they had some share of common ground. They would spend a great deal of time happily discussing fatherhood, Lord Grantham reminiscing about when his daughters were younger and offering advice to John on how to deal with a trio of demanding little girls, as well as openly delighting in his role as a grandfather. There was a true bond between them, started decades previous and still so rare to be found amongst the classes, and Anna knew that John valued the friendship dearly.

One evening, in the later stages of her pregnancy, Anna was upstairs making the beds in rather a fashion when she heard the door shut in the hallway with the quietest of clicks. Her eyes glanced to the clock, and she was rather taken aback to see the late hour. She made her way downstairs and into the sitting room to see that John was standing looking quite aimless, clutching his cane tight in one hand and his hat in the other, frozen to the spot. His face looked as white as a sheet, and Anna's heart sunk to her feet as she walked over to him, taking the bowler from his grasp and gently lacing her fingers there.

Shock and grief ran through her as she took in the words that left him slowly, disbelieving. Lord Grantham had died, suddenly. Peacefully, it seemed, which was some sort of blessing. Obviously, the house had been sent into disarray and deep mourning immediately when they had all been made aware, and Anna had the sudden urge to run as fast as she was able over there to offer her condolences, to show her gratitude in some small way. Then, she was very aware of her husband's hand trembling uncontrollably in hers and she knew there was nowhere else she could be. The fingers of her other hand trailed down his arm as she guided him along, shuddering and shaking, to sit in the chair by the fire. Kneeling as comfortably as she could at his feet, she ran her hands along his thighs, making her touches as delicate as possible, before she circled both of them around one of his in his lap. She gazed up at him with filling eyes, seeing that his head was bowed, focused intently on the golden band glistening upon her finger in the firelight. In the silence, she kept saying unspoken words to comfort and console, words that she didn't have meaning for but still meant with all her heart.

Anna knew that Lord Grantham's death would have a profound effect on John, in more ways than one. He would grieve for the considerate master and the true friend he had lost, but more significantly, he would grieve for his own passing moments. There had been a few years between them but not that many, and even though Lord Grantham had passed prematurely and unexpectedly, John was already worrying about his own mortality, a fear that seemed to increase as each of their children entered the world. Anna would always shrug it off quickly when mentioned, told him not to say such things because they weren't true, but also selfishly to stop the sharp pang of pain that spiralled up into her on the mere thought. The loss hit him hard, even though he fought not to let it show amongst the joy that was surrounding them in awaiting the birth of their latest child. John went on making a fuss, lavishing affection upon her and all of his little family, said over again how so very happy he was to have them all. Anna believed him with every word as he squeezed her hand in his, locked his eyes with hers and bared his soul. Still, her heart went out to him as he stood before her. Another person who had meant so much to him had gone sooner than they should and he had lost so many, had had to bear so much she couldn't possibly imagine throughout his life. It had been her life's purpose since she made her vows, even years before, to make him the happiest man that walked the earth. Now, with this little one so close on the way, she was more determined than ever to make their already happy home even more so, with enough love and strength to shelter him, to give to him all that he had always deserved and meant to have.

When their son arrived, not too long after, they spent only seconds on deciding upon the names that he would be given. Neither had to convey their reasons, as they were one and the same. His first after the young man who had not just been a colleague but like a dear younger brother to them both, the finest and sweetest young man they had ever known, who they hoped very much their boy would be like in character. His second after the man who had been so kind and gracious and understanding, who had offered chances in abundance; one of which had been the opportunity they would both forever be thankful for, him being the man who had brought them together by the choice he had insisted on making. William Robert Bates was already shaping up to be a fine man, even within hours of his birth.

John joked that even if they had had second thoughts there was no option other than to move, now that he had lost his position. Mr Matthew had insisted that he would make a role available for the man who had meant so much to his father-in-law, but John graciously refused, knowing in his heart that the time had come to head for the future that had long been mapped out. There were many fond farewells as they stood on the gravel beneath the towering walls of Downton Abbey, the household having lined up outside like they would for any range of grand guests. John and Anna made their way down the line, their children following behind, bidding goodbye to each and everyone. Tears were shed, of joy and of sorrow; embraces were allowed to be shared; staid handshakes were offered, even by those unwilling. Anna took a long glance up at the house that climbed high into the sky, remembering standing in the same spot years and years ago as a nervous young girl, wanting to charge away and leave immediately. Now, the reality was hitting her that she was leaving, and likely would not see it again for many years, if at all. She made her feet move once more and then was face to face with Lady Mary and Mr Matthew, the new Countess and Earl of Grantham. Mr Matthew nodded at her and she returned the gesture before he turned and shook the hand of her husband warmly. Anna smiled at the exchange between the two men, and then turned her head to see Lady Mary beaming towards her, her two children to her left side and her hand cradling her enlarged stomach. Though it had been over eight years since she had been in service to her, Anna still felt a great affinity with Lady Mary, experiencing the hallmarks of a woman's life with her almost in tandem, as well as being, as Lady Mary had once so overwhelmingly put it, like another sister to her. Leaning forward, Lady Mary braced a hand lightly against Anna's back and left a small kiss upon her cheek, which meant much more than her decorum could convey.

"_You're finally flying the nest,"_ Lady Mary had said, with a laugh in her voice. _"I'm so pleased, for you and for Bates. It's all that you always should have had." _Anna flushed, a lump forming in her throat at the sincere words. Lady Mary moved forward slightly, grasping her hand. _"Thank you Anna, for everything you've ever done for me. It has truly meant the world. You must take care, and please do write to let us know how you are getting on once you are settled. Perhaps we shall even venture to take our summer holiday at the seaside instead of Scotland next year."_

Anna chuckled, letting her fingers fall from Lady Mary's hand. _"I do hope that we'd be able to accommodate you,"_ she said, smiling sincerely. _"Thank you, m'lady. For being so good throughout it all. I shall forever be grateful to the kindness that has been shown to my husband and I here." _She glanced across to John, who was regarding the pair affectionately.

"_It has been my pleasure. All of ours."_ Lady Mary kept her voice even, though her gaze looked ever so slightly glossy. _"Take care, both of you." _She leaned closer to Anna's ear to utter her final words. _"And be ever so happy."_

She couldn't have possibly known how very happy Anna would be, standing in a room miles away, her future meeting her upon the horizon in a quiet, perfect moment. She felt John's body move beneath her hands and she gazed up happily to find him bending towards William while he remained in his arms, looking so loving and intent as he doted upon their little son. Her smile broke upon her lips, and she didn't think he would notice that her fingers had stopped gliding up and down his back, as she had not, being lost in the little world that only contained the three of them.

"Is everything alright?"

Anna was shaken from her reverie upon hearing his voice, so full of concern, and looked back into his eyes that contained the same sentiment, searching hers for warning signs but only seeing the happy tears that resided there.

"Yes. Much more than that." She laughed, wiping her knuckles at her eyes and giving him a warm, reassuring smile before she cast her eyes out upon the view once more, wistfully. "It is a lot to take in, that we're actually here. I feel a bit silly, but I'm beside myself with happiness. Because this is all I have ever wanted, and now I have it, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself." Shaking her head at what she was saying, she put a hand up to clutch a chubby leg of William's and continued to giggle. "I feel as if I should pinch myself."

John smiled at his wife's endearing excitability. "Well, that would be rather painful," he chuckled, his hand reaching to cover hers that rested upon their boy. "And there's no need. It's all yours, and you can believe in it, completely."

His words and smile radiated through her, warming her heart thoroughly. They stood for a few moments, simply staring at one another, revelling in all that they had. William made a few gurgles, reaching his little arms out to his mother, and John passed the child into Anna's arms. She cuddled her son close to her, cooing to him as she walked them both around the room, John looking on with so much admiration.

"Oh, where do we begin with all of this?" Anna wondered aloud, weaving her way in and out of boxes that were piled upon the floor, which William seemed quite amused to spend his time counting. "It's going to take forever to wade through it all."

John let out a hearty laugh, crossing his arms across his chest. "I didn't think you were all that concerned about where everything went for now."

"I'm not," Anna assured, "but we have to start somewhere. It's a good job that we won't be taking any guests for a little while, because I'm not sure it'll be quite liveable for us for a bit." She came to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around at all that surrounded her. "Especially not this room."

She directed her gaze to her husband as she finished speaking, turning bashful as she saw a distinct spark light up in his eyes as he started to make his way over to her.

"I've told you," he said as he placed a hand firm upon her waist, and she gasped at the intensity of the sudden contact, "you being in any room is enough to make it nice." His fingers began to stroke her at her hipbone. "And that is one of the truest things I have ever said, and will ever say."

Anna coloured underneath his adoring gaze, tingling at his continuing touches while William nestled against her shoulder.

"You're so wonderful," John's voice came out in a soft sigh, "With the children, with everything you do, in every way…completely wonderful." He glanced down at where his fingertips were sweeping against her waist, before fixing his darkening eyes on her soft features. "Thank you so much for being wonderful, for being you. For gracing me with so much goodness."

"What's brought all this on?" she laughed a little shyly, shrugging off his praise and yet basking in its glow, touching her fingers to the seam of his jacket. "I think the sea air has gone to your head."

John shook his head lightly, smoothing his hand down her side. "Because you are, and I never tire of telling you so. As a matter of fact, I don't tell you anywhere near enough."

"You know you don't need to."

"I know, but I want to. You deserve to hear it. I feel as though I should shout it from the rooftops, let the world know how absolutely marvellous my wife, Mrs Anna Bates, is." His lips had split into a wide grin, a smile that he seldom ever wore, yet only for her, and it suited him so well. "But as long as you know how marvellous you are, then that's all that matters, and I shall be perfectly content."

She felt incredibly overcome to hear him speak so candidly, the words flowing straight from his heart.

"Okay then, I accept it," she giggled at him. "But only so long as you know how marvellous you are too."

He opened his mouth to dismiss what she had said but before he could utter a word, Anna pressed on.

"And don't you even try to say otherwise, John Bates, because I won't have it." She smiled wide, matching the one he had shown to her seconds previous. "You _are_ marvellous, every single bit of you. I'm everything I am because of you."

Her words proved too much for him to resist, and then his lips were pressed to hers, sweetness and love flooding through another of their kisses, even more wonderful than the millions that had preceded it. Pulling away, they opened their eyes again slowly, savouring the other coming into view once more while their atoms lingered upon the lips of one another.

"I still think I'm going to wake up from this dream sometimes," he said after a few seconds. "To think that it would come to this; that all those years ago when you looked at me, offered your hand and gave me such a sweet smile. To know that I could belong to you, have so many of those sweet smiles forever. That you would want me, and that I could make you as happy as you made me in that moment. If I would have told myself then this is how it would come to be, I don't imagine I would have believed it in a million years, as much as I wanted to."

Anna beamed, recalling that greeting beneath the stairs at Downton Abbey, how her heart had faltered on the sight of him and skipped several beats when they had actually made contact.

"You knew even then?" she asked, her voice shaking lightly.

"Well, I don't think I was willing to even consider that I might have been capable of falling in love, not right then. But that was my own doing, and I soon learned that I was defenceless against you." They both smiled, thinking to everything that had gone before, the memories of how they had both fallen for each other and how for so long it seemed that they hadn't known of each other's feelings when really they both had all along. "Yes, you had me from the start. Even though I wasn't quite aware, I knew that there was something in that smile, something that had a hold on my heart. And not long afterwards, it was yours completely. As it always has been since. Yours, and the children's."

Her own heart swelled within her chest, filling her with warmth that made her tingle all over. She tried not to burst into tears as she turned from him to settle William down in the cot-bed that was standing against the wall, yet the smile that was set firm on her face would not let her. She stroked a hand over their son's soft hair and little cheek in turn, and once she was quite content that he was content, she walked back into the middle of the room, her feet dancing around aimlessly and with excess energy, her eyes searching around every corner.

"Do you have any regrets, about us coming here?" John's voice was low and slightly tentative, echoing in the room. They took a while to hit Anna, taken aback as she was at the sheer wonder of them being there, within the life they had always dreamed of.

"None at all," she exclaimed, walking back towards him with love shining in her eyes. "I couldn't regret a second I spent with you, wherever it was." Thoughts from darker times fluttered briefly in her head, of the days she thought she would always have to enter those high, gated walls and the barred rooms that lay deeper within to be able to spend just half an hour at a time with him. She slipped her hands about his sides, running the tips of her fingers up slowly, craning her head back to take him in. "Do you?"

"No, none whatsoever," he answered her with honesty threaded in his words. "The only regret I have is that I couldn't have done it sooner. I know how much you love this place, you're already flourishing here. We should have gone before now."

Anna smiled as she reached a hand up to run along the curve of his jaw. "It doesn't matter. We're here now, and that's all that counts. And we have so much good to look forward to. I can't wait for it."

He smirked to see the light shining in her eyes, cupping her head in his hands. "Neither can I."

Pulling her closer, they shared a lingering kiss. Anna parted her lips allowing John to deepen it, their tongues dancing over one another, slow and sensual. Both could not deny the fire that had begun to spark and surge intensely within them.

"We had better get a move on," Anna managed to breath as the dizzying kiss came to a close, still giggling at how the tip of his tongue had tickled against her. "I promised the girls we'd go out to the beach for a picnic in a while, and I should hate to let them down if we don't get anything done this morning."

John raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you sure that's such a wise idea? You do know how our picnics tend to end." His voice had become a growl as he finished his sentence, and Anna found it very hard to remain calm and coy, knowing precisely what he was getting at.

"Behave, Mr Bates." She lightly swatted him above the elbow, breaking into laughter. "We really can't be having any more children. All the spare rooms are needed for guests."

His own laughter filled her ears, his chest shuddering as he pulled her flush against him, his breath wonderfully warm upon her face.

"If you say so," he whispered. Anna looked up to him to see his eyes were twinkling with sheer joy, reflecting her own emotion. "That's a lovely idea, I very much look forward to the afternoon, taking the girls out to the seaside." His hands caressed up and down her back, and she repressed a sigh at the sensations careening across her at his touch. "Perhaps we'll go down to the fair too, if it's still open. I imagine they will be in their element there, if the one at Downton was anything to go by."

Anna smiled at the memory of their daughters spending happy afternoons at the travelling fair that had stopped off in the summer just gone, squealing with cheerful laughter as they rode the carousel horses. Then her thoughts turned once more, to a moment that had barely passed.

"That would be lovely. But, we should make sure that we get back a little earlier; a good while before dinner, at least."

"Oh, and why is that?"

She couldn't keep the smirk from bursting upon her lips as she cradled John's elbow with the palm of her hand, flicking her fingertips teasingly against the fabric of his shirt. "I promised Alice that she could sleep with us tonight, she had such a restless time last night."

John huffed a little. "You're too soft-hearted with her sometimes. I love her dearly, but you do know we'll be awake half the night."

"I do," Anna chimed mischievously, "but you should know that there's always method in my madness."

Her eyes flickered up to his, seeing that they had lit up in anticipation to know whatever it was she was up to this time. The tone of her voice trailed upwards as her gaze delved lower across his body.

"If we work it out and get back in enough time, then we can always sneak into one of the other rooms for a little bit…" She heard him suck in a breath, letting out a little groan before he did so, and delighted in the desirous effect she could still have upon him. "The bathroom is quite spacious, from what I've seen."

"Anna Bates," he purred, moving his hands further down her body, "you are a very naughty girl, you do know that?"

She giggled gleefully in his arms. "You knew that long before you married me." Feeling especially cheeky, she went on. "And I daresay that you wouldn't have it any other way."

"You know me so well," he groaned, barely getting the words out before his mouth melded to hers for a blistering, passionate kiss. Ardour engulfed them completely, the thought of what was promised later on setting their desire for each other alight. John braced his arms around Anna's slight frame and she shuddered with the power of his passion, her feet nearly lifting from the floor and her head well and truly in the clouds.

They were interrupted by a harmony of giggles, and broke apart to see their three daughters standing in the doorway of the room, eyes fixed firmly upon their mother and father. Anna flushed a rosy hue of pink at being caught, looking down at the floorboards before she gazed up at John once more, meeting his face with a laugh that brought forth a hearty one of his own seconds after.

"We're all ready, Mama," Eleanor said, holding the hands of both of her sisters as they walked into the room. "I'm not sure that you and Pa are, though."

"Cheeky," Anna said, not being able to refrain from smiling as her eldest daughter flashed a gleeful grin. Eleanor let go of her younger sisters' hands in order to reach into the cot to pick up and carefully cradle her baby brother, who greeted his big sister with a happy giggle. Being set free, Alice and Aoife scrambled over to their parents in the centre of the room, dancing around them and attaching little hands to their legs, rendering it impossible for them to move.

"I think we'll have some helpers, then. If they let us do anything," John said, a grin sounding in his voice.

"That we will."

Wrapping her arms about his neck as his stayed firm upon her waist, Anna shone with happiness. Their life together, when it had got off to its proper start, had been so very blessed. Four happy, healthy children who were full of boundless energy and joy. A hotel by the sea that they could call their own business and home. It truly was what she had always wanted, ever since she had been able to call herself Mr Bates's wife, and for long before. And even now she was sure that there was so much more to come. Stroking his skin softly, she looked up into the eyes of her ever-loving husband, lost herself there for long moments. There she was happy to stay, as she could see forever held there; their children's faces and futures, the way ahead, the person she was always meant to be. A loving mother, a devoted wife. He stayed looking back, sharing in everything they were always able to say to each other without words.

What a life, she thought. A life that was full of love and contentment that filled her heart completely. A life that above all, she was overjoyed to share. And right here was where it would begin again, better than ever before.

* * *

**A/N: I really can just picture them with lots of little girls (Bates with daughters just makes my heart melt), but I had to give them a boy to make everything complete :) I think I took care of the name meaning within the story, better than I could seeking out any other names. Perhaps William is overused as a name for their little boy, but I couldn't not use it. **


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